The Orlando and Faithe Saga
by BroadwayGuardie
Summary: A well-written publication of several RPG posts from a site based off the Harry Potter books' world; involves a romantic relationship's ups and downs with plenty of soap-opera-ish plot twists.
1. Introduction

This is just a collection of random RPG posts written by myself (Orlando Lorenz and Demeter Lawrance), Kaycee (Isabelle/Faithe Cunningham, Jake Cunningham, Kaytlin Cunningham and Eddie Polazzo), Brandi (Jacques Hilton, Tealyr Montague and Ivy Stormer-Starling) and Rachel (Demeter Lawrance- principal) at Rosencrantz Academy: , which is a RPG site loosely based off the magic world of Harry Potter. Although each person owns their original characters respectively, and Brandi owns Rosencrantz and its trademarks, anything having to do with the magical world itself is probably the creation of J.K. Rowling. Enjoy. 


	2. Supernova

"While its shadowy side is consistently cool and dead, the other side is a searing inferno of rock and craters. Empty and lifeless, cool and burning at the same time, the place revolves around a greater being, which in turn encircles something that dictates its motions and its life. Around, it will follow, until the universe ends, or the star collapses in on itself."  
  
The glowing crescent moon reflected itself in the man's brilliant blue eyes as he gazed with awe at the heavens above from his place upon the grassy knoll. Much too hot for a summer's eve, he'd forgone wearing his robes and, in place of them, clad himself in muggle jeans and a gray t-shirt. Long ago was it that he'd heard his first lecture about the sun, the moon, the earth, all revolving and spinning in a massive chaotic mess of galaxies and gravity. Each was clinging to a sense of force, a need for another that enabled them to live. They could only do so much alone, and without a piece of the chain, the rest would fall apart, catastrophically, and destroy everything held dear.  
  
There were simple things, small little pieces of rock that dictated what others did (and some could even shatter worlds), and then there was a mist of gasses and stone, floating in the vacuum of space. There could be no life without the help of others, from the tiny quarks that held the universe together to the gigantic super giants that could also destroy solar systems. When they 'died' they would either explode in an infinite array of light, dazzling those willing to become spectator to a tragedy to the scientific world, or it could simply burn out and become a lifeless ball, left to sit and take up space, forever darkened to the life that it once held.  
  
Sighing to himself, the man laid back, supporting himself with his elbows, and flitted his eyes around the heavens, then back to the horizon, awaiting Faithe's arrival.  
  
The entire day had been lived in anticipation for the sun to face and the darkness to fall. Every hour had seemed to drift by slower and slower as the afternoon progressed into the evening, and the early evening into night. Tired of the discomforted her school uniform brought, Faithe had exchanged the black uniform for a pair of loose, yellow muggle pajama pants with French phrases written across them, and a semi-fitting white T-shirt. Wearing her flip-flops, she had left her common room a couple hours after nightfall. Though the Athenian preferred the magical world to that of the muggle world, having parents whose business interacted with muggles did have its advantages.  
  
Taking a bottle of water, Faithe slipped out of the quiet common room unnoticed and began her trek to meet Orlando. Her walk would have taken less time, but her eyes had a habit of gazing at the sky, slowing her pace down immensely. Coming to a dead stop, her eyes squinted to the sky as a shooting star dove across the sky. Smiling, she continued on recollecting a book she once read. It was about a shooting star that had fallen to Earth, and a man went in search of it. A small grin spread over her face as the scientific part of her mind picked apart the probability of that happening.  
  
She had almost brought along her telescope, but was glad she hadn't. Faithe had learned over the years that not everything had to be analyzed. As much as she enjoyed watching the stars and running the entire philosophical viewpoint through her mind, the eighteen year old found much serenity in simply enjoying the stars for the beauty they portrayed. Nonetheless, as much as she knew that her wanting to pursue astronomy would never be probable, there was no doubt the heavens would ever stop being her passion.  
  
Reaching the place she was due to meet her Astronomy teacher, Faithe's eyes scanned around, spotting him on the ground. Grinning, she walked over to him quietly, taking a small sip from her water. He wasn't facing her, which made the sneaking up on him easier. The closer she got, the faster she walked until she practically jumped next to him. Sitting down on his stomach, her eyes focused on the sky.  
  
"Aw. Professor, you aren't falling asleep already are you?"  
  
Andromeda, Canis Majoris, Procryon...  
  
A plethora of astronomical phenomenons flooded Orlando's view as he lay, nearly hypnotizing the young man with their particular beauties. Though not closed, his eyes had most certainly lost their ability to see, and, thus, for the moment when a slender silhouette interrupted the incessant display of celestial wonder from his line of vision, the man thought he had gone blind. Yet, within an instant, her randomness took its full entropic effect on him.  
  
Out of pure instinct, his elbows collapsed beneath him as one arm reached up in an attempt to defend himself against whatever beast was now straddling his body and the other darted for his wand, which, being oh-so- uncleverly placed in his back pocket, was inaccessible. Gasping in shock, the man most likely would have let out a shout had his breath not been knocked out of him.  
  
After a moment of chaos, the man's baby blues finally regained their sense of sight and Faithe's grinning face came into focus. Exhaling with a mixed sense of both relief and embarrassment, a small smile crossed Orlando's face.  
  
"Faithe," he stated softly, reaching up a hand to brush away a stray strand of hair from the girl's face.  
  
For about a solid minute, Orlando found himself absolutely entranced by the fact that, upon his own stomach, sat a beautiful girl... a beautiful girl who was his student. The latter part of that thought came later, of course, but it did come, and then the poor man found himself in a state of confusion once more.  
  
Was she trying to seduce him? If so, she needed to realize that she herself was simply enough to captivate him. Then again, he recalled, she had referred to him as "Professor". A queer look passed over his face, contorting it for a moment.  
  
Tucking the strand of dark hair behind the girl's ear, he returned that arm to the ground and once more propped himself up with his elbow. With the other hand, he gently tapped her shoulder, insinuating that she should get off of him.  
  
"Falling asleep?" he repeated, "Not at all, Miss Cunningham; simply entranced by the mystical heavens."  
  
Feeling comfortable again, for a moment, at least, that characteristic boyish grin returned to its rightful place upon his face.  
  
Faithe's smile disappeared from her face as she watched him practically go insane. Wincing slightly, she scolded herself silently. Moron. He isn't a friend; he's a teacher. You can't goof around with him like that. She had felt her face turn red as he tucked her hair behind her ear. Her head leaned instinctively against his hand for a moment, but returned once he had propped himself back up. Sliding off, her face held an apologetic expression to it as her dark eyes searched the sky.  
  
"Sorry." Murmuring softly, her eyes had already become transfixed on the stars once more. At least this time she could watch the sky without having to cut herself short. Hey Faithe, he called you Faithe. That took her slightly by surprise, not that she minded. Normally she approved of formality, but not in a setting of such serene beauty. Under the stars, she felt completely at ease, and no part of her wished to be formal. "Professor, you can call me Faithe. We aren't in a classroom, and there really isn't a need for formality out here." Opening her bottle of water, she sipped it absentmindedly.  
  
Though her eyes were transfixed on the stars, she was having a hard time concentrating on the sky above. I knew I never should have opened that letter. Anytime it's not from Jake, I should know better. Oh well. It's not important right now.  
  
"Any idea about what time the supernova is supposed to occur?" Her voice sounded slightly detached, but anybody would assume that was because her eyes were practically hypnotized on the sky. She was slightly upset with herself. She'd made a fool of herself in front of Orlando, and she was finding it hard to really enjoy herself. Nonetheless, Faithe had grown up on a stage, she knew how to put on a believable front.  
  
Feeling her lean into his hand, it was as though a puzzle had been completed, then she moved. There was a part of Orlando that had truly enjoyed Faithe's being atop him and found himself to feel somewhat empty now that her body's warmth had left him. Of course, the man wouldn't ever admit to such as thing, but if one was particularly observant, one would have seen his hand flinch ever so slightly and his fingers reach out towards her for a moment before it fell back to the ground and lay once more between the blades of grass.  
  
Eyes still focused on the young woman, he was jolted out of his temporary reverie by her voice, asking him to continue calling her Faithe. This embarrassed the man slightly, having whispered her name insentience, but, unless one was looking for it, the blush in his cheeks was veiled by the shadows and only barely illuminated by the moonlight's white and silvery glow. Formality was something he'd learn to thrive on as a teacher; it kept him from saying things that he shouldn't say and doing things he shouldn't do: it kept him from being who he so very much was- the ever-friendly, guy- next-door type of man. exactly who his parents were ashamed of and exactly who he had fought so hard to keep concealed. No, he couldn't call her Faithe; there was a definite need for formality out there, even if it was only Orlando's own.  
  
Eager to get off of that topic in his mind, he welcomed the girl's vocal interruption of his thoughts once more. Glancing at his watch, he nodded in response.  
  
"About another hour," he replied. Then, with a sorry smile, he added: "I was a little off on my calculations. Heh. I got so worked up in the calculus that, somehow, I integrated my position function for velocity instead of differentiating it, and."  
  
The man trailed off there, thinking that the young girl probably couldn't have cared less about his arithmetic mistakes, and if she did care, probably hadn't the slightest clue what he was speaking about.  
  
"Anyways, sorry to bring you out here an hour early, Miss Cunningham," he concluded, offering yet another boyish grin to her as an apology. "Of course, if you don't mind getting back to your house after curfew, I'd be delighted to have you wait with me. There's plenty of other phenomenons to experience out here."  
  
"I don't mind at all. I probably shouldn't be telling you this considering you're my teacher, and the head of my house, but I have a habit of staying out here past curfew. Quite a bit. It's just so hard for me to leave all this openness to go back to the confines of a room." Faithe couldn't help the grin that spread over her face as he talked on about his mathematical error. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes at the formality he was using. She always believed that there was a place and a time for formality, but if he wished to keep things formal, then she would oblige. Of course, she would always show him the respect as a teacher. Stretching her legs out, she laid down facing him and propping her head up on her fist and elbow. ((If that made any sense.))  
  
"Let's not get all scientific tonight. I think so many times we get caught up in having to analyze everything and figure everything out that we sometimes forget to simply enjoy the beauty of it all. Stars are extraordinary objects to study, but they deserve to be looked at with the eyes of pleasure as well as the analytical eye." Faithe didn't care if she was rambling on about nothing in particular. Normally she was one to choose her words carefully, and spoke little. Just like the literature heroin Elizabeth Bennet. Relatively quiet and only spoke when she aimed to impress.  
  
However, she didn't feel like that around Orlando, which was odd. Usually she strived more to impress her teachers than anybody else, especially the Astronomy teacher. She felt as if she could be completely...random with him. The very idea of it surprised her, but she couldn't say that she didn't enjoy it. Looking at him with interest, a thoughtful expression came over her face.  
  
"You never did get a chance to answer me in class. What led you to astronomy?" Her eyes took on their look of keen interest as she searched his face intently. His eyes held the same passion about the heavens as her own, and Faithe reveled in that. For as long as she could remember she had been shot down because of her interest and passion in possibilities outside the theater. The more she was persecuted for her love, however, the larger the hunger came to fill that passion.  
  
A look of clearly feigned disapproval, quickly broken by another grin, crossed Orlando's face as Faithe confessed to breaking curfew. Gaining her trust was a pleasantry, and he recalled doing the same thing when he had attended Rosencrantz as a student. The next part of her reply, however, brought a menagerie of thoughts to his head-she was an Athenian. Had she known him when he was a student there? Had he known her? Is that why her name had sounded so familiar on his attendance list?  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, he answered most of the questions himself; of course they had known each other. After all, he had been the house prefect during his seventh year, and, with such a small house, he had easily known every student under his leadership. Straining to remember what their relationship had been was futile, however; he couldn't remember anything more than seeing the girl in the library on occasion.  
  
Once more, his pensive entr'acte was cut short by Faithe resuming speaking. Her words seemed to have been chosen carefully, despite the verbosity of the dialogue. She seemed caught up in the sky and uncaring about how ridiculous she may have sounded. In soothe, the girl was rambling on about nothing in particular, but, being of a similar mold, Orlando was intrigued rather than annoyed by it.  
  
Although he enjoyed her philosophical babbling, her revival of the forgotten question (which was, in his mind, better off forgotten) bothered him. His integrity battled with his resolve to keep the girl at a safe distance for a moment, eventually falling victim to the latter. He didn't wish to go into his life story, and thus, chose a simple answer.  
  
"Well, Miss Cunningham," he replied, meeting her thoughtful gaze, "if I were to answer that question we'd be here all night, and I'm sure that you didn't come out here just to talk about my life. And, even if you did, let me assure you that the heavens above are much more worth your time."  
  
As the man spoke, he gradually lifted himself off the ground and began slowly walking over towards a lone tree that stood out atop the grassy hill. Reaching an arm behind the tree, he procured a near-antiquated broomstick, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.  
  
"Of course," he added, "One can only see so much of them from the ground. Even with the most technical sight-heightening spells, some of the beautiful idiosyncrasies of the sky remain a mystery."  
  
Grasping it loosely in his hand, he sauntered back towards where the young woman lay, blue eyes glistening with a mischievous air. Bending down, he reached for the girl's free hand and took it gently in his own.  
  
"I know you said that it would take a lot for you to get back on a broom, Faithe, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes," he said softly, giving the girl an encouraging smile, which was accompanied by a strangely, yet genuinely, concerned look in his eyes. "Someone with your passion for the heavens shouldn't be inconvenienced by just looking at them from the ground."  
  
Faithe's eyes gazed at him, a look of wonderment and intrigue on her face. Listening to him brush off her question, a suspicious expression crossed her face as she raised a single eyebrow. "You're avoiding my question." Always blessed with a strong intuition, Faithe had never had a problem picking up on little things like that, but she was also not the type to pry. "But I don't want to pester you into talking about something you don't wish to." Offering a small smile, Faithe's voice came out soft and reassuring that she truly was not going to press the issue.  
  
As he sat up, and then stood up, Faithe watched him curiously. Sitting up while listening to him, a bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. This did not sound like a conversation she wanted to hear finish. As he picked up the broom, Faithe began to shake her head gently. "That better be for sweeping." A look of uncertain hope flickered across her face, but was quickly replaced with a knowing look.  
  
She was slightly startled that he had wrapped his hand around hers, but she found that the whole situation made her content. Until she looked at the broom. Pulling her hand back, she stood quickly holding both of her hands up, "No. No. No." Shaking her head, she looked up at him, slight fear in her eyes.  
  
Saying 'no' to Orlando was no an easy thing to do, and she felt guilty for doing it. There were too many risks, too many memories. She couldn't do it; she would freak out and fall. Looking at his smile, Faithe almost melted at the sight of it, as well as his eyes. No, opposing him was not an easy thing to do.  
  
"I like the ground. There is nothing wrong with it. I like having my feet on the ground because I can't fall very far."  
  
Orlando's eyes never lost their compassion or concern as Faithe's anxiety manifested itself. Slowly, he crept towards her, letting the broomstick fall to the ground. Nodding almost in rythym as Faithe worked herself up, rattling excuse after excuse out of her mouth, he gradually worked his hand back into hers and wrapped the other arm around her back, rubbing his hand along her spine soothingly. Unconsciously, he wound his fingers through her hair and held her somewhat close to him.  
  
"It's okay, Faithe," he whispered into her ear, "It's okay.."  
  
She was obviously terrified, and, although he didn't want to hurt her, he did want her to get back up on a broomstick. He wanted to soar through the heavens with her in his arms, to take her up into "a whole new world". For a moment, the thought of her as his student simply slipped the man's mind. She was simply a beautiful young girl, one who he wanted to give the world to, and, if he couldn't give it to her, than he at least wanted to show her its splendors.  
  
After passing a moment hunched next to her, nearly cradling her in his arms, he recoiled from their embrace and placed his fingers upon her chin, gently turning her face towards him.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
His voice was innocent enough, holding just a slight mischievous undercurrent to it, almost identical to the way in which Aladdin in the muggle movie had said the line... although Orlando's voice was at least an octave lower.  
  
Blue eyes glistened hopefully in the soft, silvery glow of the moonlight, and he awaited her response.  
  
((Yes, this was most certainly a tacky reply... *shrugs* I blame my having just watched "Aladdin" for the 7th time and my tiredness. heheh))  
  
((Aww...it was wonderful dahling!))  
  
Everything in Faithe's head was screaming no to her, telling her to pull away from him. She couldn't though. Her head and her heart were saying two different things. As she felt the warmth of his hand surround her hand, every thought brushed out of her mind. Tensing slightly at the feel of his hand against her back, a wary expression crossed her face. Faithe had never been into the dating scene, and so, every affectionate move a guy had given her had always been from a family standpoint. Being this close to him, his being her teacher fled her mind as her heart pounded inside her chest. His look, his countenance made her feel safe and vulnerable.  
  
Resting her head against him as she felt the warm breath from his whisper, she closed her eyes fighting back tears that were threatening to fall. The thought of flying absolutely terrified her, but she had known a day would come that she would be forced back into a broom. She would rather be forced back on by Orlando, knowing he would be right there with her, than some unknown reason that caused her to battle this fear alone. Too many doubts plagued her mind though as he gently touched her chin, making her look at him.  
  
Her eyes welled up with tears, but she nodded. "I trust you Orlando. I just don't think I can do this." Her voice quavered involuntarily, not noticing she had just called him by his first name. She hated this. Everytime anybody tried to get her on a broom she started crying involuntarily, despite her attempts not to. It was one of the most intense feelings she had, and she hated it with a passion. Tightning her pressure slightly on his hand, she nodded a softly and slowly, "I do trust you."  
  
((That massively stunk. I blame it on it almost being 3 am))  
  
The man offered a small, reassuring smile as Faithe told him that she trusted him. It wasn't that he had doubted the fact, but something about having her tell it to him made him feel proud and even perhaps a little accomplished. Having the childhood that he had had, Orlando hadn't exactly been one to trust nor had he been a person to be trusted. He had been nearly completely dissociated from his family, and the few friends he had had. well, they hadn't exactly been the intimate type; more of a study group, really. But now, before him sat this amazing young woman before him, quivering with fear, and she trusted him. Obviously she was terrified of broomsticks, but, still, she wasn't running away. Instead, she was looking to him, putting her fear under his control, trusting him to help her. Just the thought brought a proud beam to the man's face as he squeezed her hand in encouragement.  
  
"Good," he whispered in response, conveying his incessant concern for her well-being with his eyes as he spoke. "Then trust me when I tell you that I won't let anything bad happen to you, alright?"  
  
His fingers waltzed upwards along her cheekbone, wiping off the streams of tears that had coated Faithe's face. From her cheeks, his hand ran down her neck and along her arm until, at last, he had once more sheathed the girl in his embrace. Gently, he eased himself up, guiding Faithe's body into a standing position as well, all the while never letting her hand leave his own.  
  
Almost unwillingly, the man then detangled his fingers from hers and procured a maple wand from his pocket. Pointing the wand towards the abandoned broomstick, he beckoned it towards him, gradually drawing it closer and closer to them, until it stopped about two feet away from where they were and hovered in midair.  
  
"I'm right here, Faithe," he comforted, "Just put one leg over the side of the broom, okay? I'm not going to let go of you, and I promise, the broom won't go anywhere until I'm on there, too."  
  
Why did she trust him so much? She barely knew him, but somehow that seemed enough. He had a reassuring disposition about him that she knew she could trust. Very few people in her life had ever made her feel safe, but Orlando had a gentleness about him. She felt a small shiver run through her body as his hand gently touched her cheek. This type of affection was completely foreign to her. The only time anything of this sort had happened it was always on stage, never real. Though there was an uncertainty about  
  
her, she truly did trust him.  
  
She felt her heart skipping and her stomach turning as he brought the broom towards them. Part of her wanted to run, but the other part wanted to share this moment with Orlando. Her body still shaking slightly, Faithe took a deep breath as she prepared to battle the biggest fear she had. It had been six years since she had gotten on a broom, but that didn't seem long enough for Faithe. She had been a relatively good flyer before she had taken that brutal fall; she had been told that she had the prospect of being a truly talented Keeper. However, she had almost been paralyzed, and had spent more time in the hospital than she ever cared to again. Nobody knew that though, nor did they need to. Swinging her leg over, she gripped the broom tightly, her knuckles turning white. Apprehension  
  
coursed through her as she stood there, fighting the urge to burst into tears. Her body was rigid as she closed her eyes, continuing to take deep breaths.  
  
As he watched the girl hesitantly mount the broom, Orlando couldn't help but squeeze her hand a little, just to reassure her. Holding her close to him, he helped set her atop the broomstick as she swung her leg above it. Smiling ever so slightly in admiration as well as encouragement, he nodded at her.  
  
It seemed to be going well, he thought. Although the last time she had been on a broomstick had no doubt mentally scarred the poor girl, she did trust him, and she was on top of the broom. Yet, within a moment of mounting it, she had closed her eyes and, though she had tried to hide them, it was evident that tears were forming her eyes.  
  
Tightening his arm around her waist a little more, the man swung his own leg over the wooden stick. Both feet sat upon the grass, ready to push off at an instant's notice. Almost instinctively, his feet began to press against the ground, yet, recalling that, this time, Faithe was there with him, he held them back and instead dangled them along the ground.  
  
Wrapping one arm completely around Faithe and entangling that hand with hers, he took his free hand and planted it firmly on the front edge of the broomstick.  
  
"I'm going to kick off now, Faithe," he whispered into her ear. "I'll go slow at first, okay? I'll be careful with you; nothing bad will happen... I promise."  
  
Then, as promised, he gradually bent his knees and then pushed off the ground. Slowly, the broomstick began to rise, until the pair hung about ten feet above the ground. Together, they were sitting in mid-air, surrounded by only the deep midnight sky whose tiny stars were like fireflies, dimly lighting the night air.  
  
The heavens momentarily startled Orlando, just as they did every time he came up to visit them. Each night there was another splendor to behold, another phenomenon to experience. He longed to go higher, to soar through the infinite darkness, but only if Faithe was ready. He would deny himself pleasures if they were to be granted at her expense...  
  
"Faithe," he murmured with an undercurrent of unmistakable sincerity and concern to his voice. "Are you alright to go a little higher?" he asked, pulling her a little closer to him.  
  
I'm on a broom. There is a sweeping utensil in between my legs about to take my feet off the ground. Faithe looked more calm and collected then she felt, which wasn't saying anything for how she felt. The feel of his arm around her allowed her to relax a little, though she was on edge.  
  
A small whimper came out as she felt the familiar feeling of weightlessness. Her eyes had squeezed shut tighter, but as Orlando pulled her closer to him she opened them slowly. Leaning against him slightly, she realized how tightly she was squeezing his hand and eased her grip slightly.  
  
Allowing his question to ring out in silence for a moment, Faithe's eyes trailed the ground. Her body began to physically ache at the muscle memory from her fall. Looking over her shoulder, she forced him a small, weak smile, "Just don't let me fall, and life will be grand. Life being the key word in that sentence."  
  
Feeling her hand tighten on his, then release, the young woman's fear became more evident. She had eased her grip probably out of concern for his well-being, he thought. In all truth, pain wasn't a thing to bother Orlando.  
  
"Squeeze my hand as tight as you want to," he replied quietly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "I promise, you're not hurting me at all."  
  
In the moment of hesitant, eerie silence, Orlando watched Faithe's eyes slowly trail to the ground. He had thought that would be then end of it, but, to his great surprise, Faithe still didn't falter. She was obviously scared, but still, that feeling of trust in him was pulling through.  
  
A small sort of chuckle escaped Orlando's lips as Faithe replied. Adjusting his grip on her waist, he returned the smile.  
  
"I won't."  
  
And with just those two words, he wound his legs around hers protectively, ensuring that she couldn't fall off. Then, slowly, the broomstick angled itself and began to climb diagonally at a reasonable incline and leisurely paced speed.  
  
((Alright, so if this isn't enough for you to reply to, 'cause it really doesn't allow for more than a "Faithe was scared" reply, let me know. I have to go right now, but I've got some continuation ideas that I can post later. ttyl, hun))  
  
As they climbed higher, Faithe finally began to relax slightly. The familiarity; the weightlessness; the freedom. Those feelings, which she had always cherished about flying, it all came back to her. Well, not all, but for the most part. Feeling the tension in her body release slightly, she squeezed Orlando's hand in a silent gesture of gratitude.  
  
Pushing out all fears, her dark eyes began to scan the sky. Orlando had been more than right - the sky was so much more breathtaking in the air. Her eyes took on a thoughtful stare as she gazed at the different constellations, mentally naming them to herself. As her eyes fell on Orion, a small smile crossed her face. Leaning back against him a little more, she turned her head slightly so she didn't have to talk loud to be heard.  
  
"Orion has always been my favorite constellation. When my brother and I were little, we would always climb this tree in the back of our yard. The tree always looked to us as if it reached the sky, if we could climb high enough. There was this one particular branch that we would always climb and star gaze together while working on scripts. We would always stop everything we were doing and simply stare at Orion." Pulling her stare from Orion, her eyes focused on Orlando.  
  
The first thing she had noticed about him, besides the way he was sitting in his classroom, were his eyes. Brilliant blue, there was something about them that drew Faithe's attention. Whether it was the mere brilliance of his eye color, or the emotions that seemed to hide behind them, she didn't know. Anytime he was teaching, her eyes never left his. Passion shown through whenever it came to the heavens, and that in itself was enough to draw her attention.  
  
"Why won't you tell me what got you interested in astronomy?" There was an innocence behind her voice, but there was also a hint of concern. From experience, she had learned that most people avoided questions such as that because unpleasant things were involved. "I don't want to press you into telling me anything, I just want to know why."  
  
With each foot their altitude increased, Orlando could feel Faithe relax a little bit more; his confidence in her was heightened by her "silent gesture of gratitude". Feeling comfortable and confident enough, he loosened his grip on her waist a little, just enough to allow circulation back into his arm.  
  
Finally relaxing a bit himself, he let his eyes follow the path Faithe's had taken, towards the marvelous menagerie of stars known as Orion the Hunter. It was certainly one of the simpler constellations to identify, probably the easiest, save Vega, due to the linear belt of three visible clusters worn by the imaginary man. As she turned to him to speak, his eyes flitted from their place in the sky to meet her own. Never leaving her eyes, and giving her his full attention, he gradually turned the broomstick with his other hand, so it pointed east, towards the lake, and maintained a comfortable speed.  
  
Listening to the girl's story, Orlando offered an entertained smile. It was nice that she had had such a lovely childhood, and such a pleasant relationship with her brother... something that the man himself had had nothing close to. Instead of watching the stars with his own brother as a pastime, he found a beautiful release in the heavens, and took refuge in their serenity on nights when his family would remind him of how worthless he was.  
  
Her voice shook him out of his reverie, yet it was ironic that, although she had saved him from a traumatic flashback, the salvation was only momentary. Her ever-pressing question resonated in his head several times, prompting a vacantly pensive expression to contort his face as he cocked his head slightly and gazed into the girl's eyes, wondering what to tell her.  
  
Turning away from her for a moment, and looking out into the vast openness, the thought of telling her the truth crossed his mind, but cross is all it did. Of course, in retrospect, the man certainly wasn't going to straight- up lie to the woman before him. Flitting his eyes downward, a small smile appeared on his lips as the perfect way out of a complete lie stared him in the face.  
  
"Look down," he implored quietly, slowing the broomstick to a hover.  
  
Beneath them laid the lake- they were now about a half hour's worth of broomstick time away from the school- and, in its dark, glassy surface reflected the stars. Everywhere one looked, their gaze would be met with a hundred twinkling lights. It was as though they were lost in space, surrounded by stars, and free from the bars of the world.  
  
"When I was younger, I would fly my broomstick along the coast, and this is what I would see," he said, looking out over the atmosphere. "Enough to make anyone interested in astronomy."  
  
It wasn't a lie. He had flown over the ocean a few times in his childhood, and he was amazed by the breath-taking feeling of being completely surrounded by the heavens. It just wasn't the primary reason for his becoming an astronomer.  
  
A never-ending sea of stars met her eyes as she followed his gaze down to the lake. The left side of her mouth crooked up in a small half smile as her eyes held a look of adoration for the sight before her. As his arm around her loosened, she felt herself tense up again, but she had relaxed in a matter of minutes.  
  
Her gaze drifted up to the night sky, blanketed in millions of small twinkling stars. There had never been a sight more beautiful to her, and she knew that her passion would always be in the heavens, never on the theatre. Her eyes dropped again, only this time they landed on the broomstick in front of her. There was an almost empty expression in her eyes as she spaced out in thought. The letter she had received from her parents drifted back into her thoughts.  
  
The previous week, Faithe had sent them a letter in regards to the many they had written, inquiring about her true plans after graduation. A few days before now, she had tried to explain to them that she was thinking about going into Astronomy. The letter she had received before meeting Orlando had been nothing but a reprimand. Her parents had the mindset that her stargazing was foolish and unpractical, and the only place she could ever possibly be is on the stage. According to her parents, that was all she was meant for.  
  
Catching herself, she sat up a little straighter, shaking her head slightly. Staring back down at the lake, she forced a small smile back at him. "It's beautiful." Her voice came out soft, almost inaudible as she spoke.  
  
As she turned her head back towards him, Orlando met her gaze once more, and stared for a moment, seemingly lost in her eyes. Her lips had decided to grace him with that adorable half smile they so frequently wore. And, once more, his thoughtful daze was broken by her dulcet voice whispering words of astonishment, to which his only evident reply was a soft nod.  
  
'Yes, you are.'  
  
The man thought the words to himself, but dared not utter them; such a thing would cripple whatever miniscule amount of formality remained between the two. In what little time he had had to get to know the young woman, Faithe had somehow captivated him. Perhaps it was the fact that she was the only other person he had ever met with the same burning passion for astronomy that he himself had, or perhaps it was her sweet smile and mysterious beauty whose sirens' song had drawn him in. Whatever it had been, though, the man was most certainly intrigued by her. In spite of all that, the words remained inside his mind.  
  
"Formality," his third year Potions master had always said, "is what keeps the world's natural tendency towards entropy from causing mass chaos. Without it, we are lost." Had Orlando not been so enthralled with his surroundings, he might have remembered the advice Professor Lenon Argonite had shared with him. Yet, the sheer splendor of the sky was clouding his judgment more with each passing moment.  
  
Slowly tightening his legs around hers, he re-wrapped his arm around her waist, closing that arm's hand around the part of the broomstick between their two bodies. Reaching his other hand up, he ran his fingers down her jawbone, eventually cupping her chin in his hand. There was a moment where he simply looked into her eyes with somewhat of a longing gaze, but that moment was cut short when his eyes closed and he leaned in, giving her a gentle, yet undeniably sweet, short kiss.  
  
Her eyes had been mesmerized by Orlando's bright blue eyes that stared back at her. She felt her heart flutter at the closeness between the two became all the more closer. As his hand ran along her jawbone to her chin, her eyes closed for a moment. Before she had the chance to open her eyes, she felt him lean forward and his lips on hers. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she felt her hands trembling slightly inside of his as she returned it.  
  
With some reluctance, she pulled back from the kiss, opening her eyes. Searching his face, Faithe looked for some sign of emotion in his face, but her own emotions were scrambling around inside of her. Always one to focus more on her studies, dating had never been an interest to her. The only kissing she had ever done was always stage kissing, and there were never any feelings behind it. She felt her face blushing, and her eyes finally settled back on his. A small smile spread on her slightly red face as a look of pure adoration filled her eyes.  
  
Reaching up, she ran her index finger down the side of his cheek softly, resting it back in his hand. Her eyes never leaving his, she leaned against him slightly. Why did she trust him so much? Trust had never been a strong suit Faithe had been able to lean on. All she'd ever heard from those she loved were reprimands for the direction she wanted her life to go in. Yet, Orlando shared her passion, her love for the heavens. She didn't feel the need to act all scientific around him as she had around JoAn Dobbels, the previous Astronomy teacher.  
  
"You have the bluest eyes." She practically breathed the words as her eyes continued to look into his. Her smile deepened, the left side crooking up a couple of centimeters higher than the other, her natural trademark.  
  
For the moment where Faithe's lips met his, Orlando felt an indescribable lurch in his stomach, as though it had fallen into the lake below. His hand ran up the girl's neck, entangling his fingers in her hair ((which, I hope, is down)). As he felt her reluctantly pull back from him, his eyes opened and met hers, finding, in her gaze, the same twisted emotional mess that he found inside his own soul.  
  
Waltzing aimlessly over her face, the same way hers wandered across his, Orlando took note of the girl's blushing, which he found to be quite endearing, as well as that sweet innocence that filled her eyes. And, as she leaned against him, and he held her close to him, something inside him seemed to click; it was as though this was somehow meant to be. Feeling her fingers dance upon his face, his eyes closed for a moment, then re-opened as she hand found its way into his own and he entangled his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand gently.  
  
Her remark about his eyes prompted a quiet chuckle to escape his lips as he recalled all the comments he'd received about them throughout his twenty- one years of life. Yet, out of all of them, her simple words meant the most. Gently guiding her head to his chest, a grin shown through on his face.  
  
"So I'm told," he replied, kissing the top of her head gently, then softly stroking her hair.  
  
A mischievous smile spread over her face at his words. Looking up at him, she raised bother her eyebrows, "Ooooh. Really? How many females do you come out here with?" Crossing her arms, she attempted to act offended; however, that wasn't very easy with Orlando. Laughing, she leaned her back against him, her forehead resting lightly against his cheek. He didn't seem the type that would play around with people's emotions, but still, the thought of him being in this same spot, doing the same thing made her feel slightly...odd.  
  
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, relaxing next to him. Everything was perfect. The sky was absolutely gorgeous, and pretty soon, the two were going to see an event that was still an astronomical amazement. For once, her thoughts were not completely centered around the night sky, but around the man who sat there with his arms around her. Opening her eyes, she looked back up at him and studied his face.  
  
"Thank you for this." A meaningful expression filled her eyes as she spoke, her words coming out softly, "I honestly never expected to be back up on a broom." Although, she wasn't sure that riding would become an everyday activity in her life, at least she knew that if it was an absolute necessity for her to get up on a broom, she could handle it. There was still a chain of doubts in her own head about being this far from the ground, but she knew that Orlando had meant it when he said he wouldn't let her fall.  
  
Faithe's lewd insinuation prompted an unreserved chortle to ring out through the night air. Having been like Faithe, never one to enjoy social events over studying, he couldn't picture himself as the "pimping" type. As a student, he had spent the majority of his time, when not at quidditch practice, in the library. at least until his seventh year. Being made a prefect had brought not only new responsibilities within his house, but also introduced him to his first girlfriend: Demeter Lawrance, one of the Hufflepuff prefects.  
  
Demeter had been the only girl Orlando had ever done anything with, and the thought of himself doing anything like taking girls up on his broomstick every night, as Faithe had suggested, was clearly laughable. A sad, almost mournful, smile crossed the man's lips as he remembered the proud young woman he had grown so close to. and how she had hurt him.  
  
"No, Faithe," he replied quietly, "You're the only person I've ever brought up here.You're the only person who's ever been worth bringing up here and sharing this magic with."  
  
As she thanked him, a proud beam lit up the man's face as he nodded in acknowledgement. Though the words were nice to here, his true reward was the indescribable emotions reflecting in her eyes.  
  
"You're welcome," he replied softly.  
  
"Bt don't you think that this is just a one time thing; I want you to come up here with me a lot more often," he added, with a jovial undertone to his voice. Like a kid talking about what he got for Christmas, his voice grew faster and slightly louder as he continued, "I've shown you the lake, but, over past those hills is a.."  
  
His voice trailed off there, as the corner of his eye caught sight of the marvelous spectacle. His head turned away from hers, and his brilliant blue eyes gazed over with amazement as they watched in awe. Not once shifting his gaze, he absentmindedly reached his hand up, hitting her nose as he searched for her chin. Finding it, he moved her head up so her eyes followed the same path as his: towards the exploding red giant star.  
  
Faithe couldn't hide the look of amazement in her eyes at his words that echoed in her ears. Compliments of that sort were things that had never been meant for Faithe by anybody she cared about, save her brother. Jake had always backed her in what she wanted in life, encouraging her to push herself. Though it had been a slight shock when she found that he was sticking with theater, she was happy that he was doing what he wanted. Once he became so involved with auditions, he and Faithe didn't have as much of a chance to talk as much as both would like.  
  
Smiling at his inclination to bring her back up, she bit her bottom lip lightly. She loved being here, this close to the heavens. She felt as if she could reach up and hold the stars in the palm of her hand. However, Faithe was still slightly apprehensive about becoming settled too quickly on broom riding regularly. As he cut himself off, she raised an eyebrow, unsure of what had distracted him so much. Turning her head slightly, she felt his hand hit her nose. Following his gaze, her eyes filled with the same burning desire as they always did when it came to astronomical wonders.  
  
Her breath caught in her chest as her dark eyes became mesmerized by the bright red star, watching the life of the star come to an end. Without realizing what she was doing, the Athenian leaned forward on the broom, resting her elbows on the broomstick. Faithe had taken to this position during mini-Quidditch games as she waited by the goal posts for some action to head her way. Resting her chin on her folded hands, she never blinked as her eyes gazed admiringly at the massive explosive as the stars core collapsed.  
  
"I always thought it rather sad, watching the death of a star. At the same time, it's so amazingly beautiful that it pushes any thought out of my head that it means the destruction of something else so beautiful. I'm amazed to be seeing this without a telescope though, since supernovas in our own galaxy are such rare events."  
  
A breath was the only response the man could make at that moment. Caught up in the magnificent spectacle before him, it was amazing that he managed to even listen to what Faithe had to say, much less acknowledge the girl's speech. He had listened, of course, but, while her voice had softly streamed into his ears, his eyes had never left the sky above him. Orlando had been captivated by the star's stunning exit.  
  
After years of playing its role in the night theatre, the supergiant's only production had ended and it was time for the final curtain call- one last bow to conclude a brilliant life on the stage of the night sky. Blazes of red, orange, and every other color imaginable flashed through the sky, darting out in mile-high streams of boiling gas, although, from where the couple sat, all that could be seen were tiny dots exploding from the former star.  
  
As a sort of delayed reaction, the man finally noticed that Faithe's back was no longer so close to his chest and, for a brief moment, thought that the girl might have fallen. until he flitted his eyes away from the manifestation and saw her stretched out before him, looking as though she had been riding a broomstick all her life and was completely more-than- comfortable on one. His admiration flickered in his eyes as his attention gradually refocused itself from the supernova onto the amazing young woman before him, whose passion for the sky was simply astonishing. After a moment, he found himself unable to divert his attention back to the astronomical event. For some reason, its majesty just didn't seem to be able to compete with Faithe.  
  
"And you're so amazingly beautiful that what's happening above just doesn't seem to matter anymore."  
  
Like before, the words echoed in his mind, but, unlike before, they actually made it out of the man's mouth this time.  
  
Her eyes practically plastered to the tiny energetic explosion before her eyes, Faithe was silently wishing that she had a telescope. Supernovas were still rare, indeed, in this galaxy, and she longed to see the bright red and orange explosions in front of her eyes. Upon thinking this, she silently shunned herself for the thought of it. It didn't matter how amazing and magnificent the sight would have been with a telescope, there was no way it could compare of the magical feeling she had been experiencing all night with Orlando.  
  
quote:  
"And you're so amazingly beautiful that what's happening above just doesn't seem to matter anymore."  
  
  
Oh, that's cute Faithe. You're hearing things now. Sitting up after a few moments of silence, she realized that the words had truly come from the man behind her. Turning slightly, she looked at him with a look of perplexity. She felt her face turn slightly red, and looked down quickly for a few moments.  
  
"You shouldn't say things that aren't true." Looking back up at him, her trademarked half smile appeared on her face for a few seconds before disappearing. Nobody had ever called her beautiful...except on the stage.  
  
Never before had she loathed her time on her parents' stage as she did this very moment. All these emotions she was feeling inside of her were completely new to her, yet she had been expected numerous times to promote these feelings in a production. Everything before had been fake - she had known it then, but she felt it all the more now. She hated it with a passion. She had nothing but adoration and respect for Orlando, and she knew those feelings wouldn't be swayed anytime soon or easily. Nor did she want them to. All the emotions she had portrayed previously on a stage were merely words with expression to them. The adoration, respect, and affection she felt for the man beside her went deeper than words.  
  
Reaching up, she touched his cheek lightly with her hand. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met." Her words came out in a soft whisper as she searched his face, for what she did not know.  
  
In the silence that followed, after his words had been spoken, Orlando wondered if he had even said them; Faithe remained lounged across the broom, eyes glued to the sky. Just as he was about to repeat himself, however, the girl sat up and turned around, blushing charmingly with modesty.  
  
[I]'You shouldn't say things that aren't true'[/I]  
  
Though her words were doubtful, that adorable smile tugging on the left side of her mouth reflected her appreciation.  
  
"I'm not lying," Orlando replied, grinning. "Can't you just accept a compliment and say 'thanks'?" he asked, punctuating the question with a wink.  
  
Of course, Orlando didn't really have a right to say such a thing, even in a joking sense; he himself couldn't accept a compliment to save his own life.  
  
[I]'You are the most amazing person I have ever met'[/I]  
  
Her words echoed through the man's mind for a moment, bringing a warm blush to his tanned cheeks, which, by means of the moonlight, could easily be seen. Taking her hand (the one on his cheek) in his own, he playfully swung it back and forth for a moment as he gnawed awkwardly on his tongue.  
  
"Then you obviously need to go out and see the world more," he replied after a moment, flashing his boyish grin at her. Though his words refuted the flattering remark, a slight sparkle appeared in his eyes, silently thanking her for it.  
  
Breaking the upbeat atmosphere, his grin disappeared and he reverted to his more sincere self. He gently released her fingers from his own and let his hand creep behind her neck, slowly guiding her head closer to him as he moved his head closer to hers until their lips met once more.  
  
Sticking her tongue out at his jest, she couldn't help the full smile that spread over her face. Her eyes held a twinkle in them from pure joy that could easily compete with the sparking stars suspended above them. "It's hard to take something you aren't used to getting."  
  
Shoving him ever so slightly, she tweaked his nose at his own insinuation about her words. "Don't say that. I've met plenty of people, unfortunately. None have ever been as... captivating as you." As he swung their arms back and forth, Faithe felt her equilibrium stir. Grabbing on to him, her smile faltered as she fought to regain her balance. The look of fear that had long since washed out flickered across her face momentarily.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she looked at him, a warm smile spreading across her face as she met his eyes. Feeling chills run up and down her spine as his hand touched the back of her neck, she closed her eyes. This is heaven. Returning the kiss, she pulled back slightly, her eyes remaining closed. "You are too the most amazing person I have ever met."  
  
((Sorry this is so long, I got carried away. heh heh))  
  
As she pulled back, Orlando reluctantly did the same, though his hand remained on her neck and his fingers toyed with her hair. His brilliant blue eyes fluttered open for a moment, admiring the young woman before him, then closed themselves once more as he gave her yet another kiss, though it was most certainly shorter than the previous two.  
  
Pulling back quickly, yet not hastily, he opened his eyes again and dropped his hand from her neck down around her back. The charmingly boyish grin had appeared on his face once more, as had the sparkle in his eyes.  
  
"Thank you," he replied with a smug smirk accompanying the words, as if to say [I]'See, I can take a compliment.'[/I]  
  
As he shifted his gaze back towards the sky, he noted that the supernova had nearly exhausted itself. Biting the inside of his lip in silent frustration with himself, a quiet, yet clearly disappointed, grumble could be heard.  
  
"It's nearly over," he stated, gesturing towards the sky as his back hunched and his head hung dejectedly.  
  
If one could see his face, it must have looked angry for a moment, at least. After all, he had just about completely missed probably the only supernova that would occur in his lifetime, and, more than that, he had caused Faithe to miss it. Sighing inwardly, he was crestfallen for a moment, until an idea struck him.  
  
As he jolted up with a grin on his face, the broom shook a bit; it wasn't nearly enough to shake either of the two off, but there was most certainly a moment where it had been uneasy. Instinctively, he reached out for Faithe, wrapping both his arms securely around the girl as his legs tightened their grip on hers.  
  
"Sorry," he said quickly, offering an apologetic smile.  
  
Gently removing an arm from around her waist, he reached into his back pocket and procured his wand. Winking at her, he swished and flicked, whispering "[I]phiadro perthod[/I]. ((Okay, so it's Greek, not Latin, but, I tried.)). Instantaneously, the dim spec of a supernova in the distant black sky was brighter and looked as though it wasn't more than a few thousand miles away.  
  
Beaming with pride that he actually remembered the spell, he gestured to the heavens again. "Least we'll be able to see the last few minutes of it up-close.."  
  
Her heart was fluttering double time in her chest as he once again closed the distance between them. A small chill ran down her back once more as she felt his hand move from her neck to her back. She couldn't help the small laugh at his grin - it was just too adorable.  
  
Opening her mouth to speak, she quickly shut it as she recognized the frustration in his face, and the grumbling underneath his breath. All the ecstasy she had been feeling with him fell as she spotted the look of anger. Tensing up, her eyes looked down at the ground, unable to look at him.  
  
Doubts about herself flowed through her mind, becoming absentminded to what was going on around her. Even as he apologized for the broom, and gave her that smile that so often caused herself to smile, her eyes remained on the ground.  
  
Her back still rather rigid, she forced her eyes upwards towards the incredible sight, but the passion and fire that had been in her eyes before now held an expression of doubt. Not only had she caused him to miss something he had been waiting to see probably his entire life, but he was probably regretting everything that had just happened. This is why I never get emotionally involved with anybody. I am so stupid, what was I thinking? Here Orlando was, an intelligent, handsome, compassionate man. Why would he want anything to do with her?  
  
He doesn't Faithe, not truly. Nobody ever does...STOP PLAYING PITY PARTY! Reprimanding herself silently, Faithe tried to force her attention on the once in a lifetime sight before her eyes.  
  
The man's eyes, though they were looking out at the exploding star, caught a glimpse of Faithe. She looked different, as though something in the last few moments had drastically changed her. Her back appeared rigid, and she almost appeared uninterested in the sky's spectacle.  
  
As a pensive look crept over his face, he turned his full attention to her, wondering what had happened. A moment passed, as a menagerie of peculiar scenarios flourished through his mind, and then it hit him. Being the observant and somewhat intuitive ((sp?)) man that he was, he could easily see what she thought had happened.  
  
A small smile crossed his face as the irony stuck him. He had though that she would be upset about missing the supernova, and, evidently, she had thought the same about him. In soothe, the man couldn't care less about the celestial phenomenon, but had only wanted to make sure Faithe had seen it as she had seemed to excited by the prospect of seeing it.  
  
Orlando's arms found their way around the girl's waist again, locking her in his embrace. Craning his neck around her shoulder, his lips lightly kissed the girl's cheek.  
  
"Hey," he whispered softly, taking one of her hands back into his own. "I'm sorry you're too sweet for your own good, Faithe," he said with a knowingly smirkish grin. "I meant what I said before. I don't really care about the star anymore... I just thought you'd be upset when you realized you'd missed it. You seemed so excited about seeing it when I told you in class..."  
  
Feeling his arms slide around her, she felt her body relax against him, despite her mindset. Closing her eyes as he kissed her cheek, she felt the tingling sensation left by his lips. Smiling at his words, she shook her head as her eyes rolled. Turning her head to face him, her small smile was replaced by an apologetic look.  
  
"No, I feel guilty because I made you miss it, and I thought..." Pausing for a moment, she thought about what she was about to say, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. "Well, it doesn't matter what I thought."  
  
Blushing slightly, she looked forward for a moment, her eyes staring into some world oblivious to even herself. Turning her head slightly back towards him, a strand of hair fell over her eyes. Reaching up, she brushed it away lightly. Instead of resting it back in her lap, she reached up and touched his cheek lightly, running her finger down his jawline before resting it back in her life. "That star can't compete with the magic I'm feeling when I'm with you."  
  
((*dies* Yes, that one most certainly did "take the cake", Kaycee. lol. I'm over here laughing like a hyena))  
  
Listening to her explanation, a proud beam crossed the man's face; he had been right. Nodding in response, he was about to say something when her fingers gently brushed his cheek, and he closed his eyes momentarily, lost in her touch. It felt nice; having someone care about him in that sense, that is. It had been quite a while since his last relationship, with Demeter, had fallen through.  
  
Her words prompted Orlando's broad boyish grin to shine once more as a chuckle rang out through the night air. Shaking his head, he pulled her close to him, laying her head on his chest and turning her so that she was almost lying cradled in his arms.  
  
"You're such a sap, Faithe," he declared, rolling his eyes a bit as he gazed down at her, "I love it."  
  
Glancing back out at the star, and then back to her, his eyes caught sight of the watch he wore on his wrist, a small antiquated-looking clock on a battered up leather band: 12:53am.  
  
"It's getting late," he noted, as a small yawn escaped his lips. "Nearly one in the morn. We should probably head back to school, especially since we both have class in seven hours."  
  
Holding her tightly with one arm, he moved his left hand back to the front of the broomstick and proceeded to turn them around and begin heading back to Rosencrantz at a leisurely pace.  
  
Sticking her tongue out at his comment, she couldn't help but laugh as he chuckled. "I know, I know. You should see me when I watch really sad plays or movies. Or am in them. I played Cosette in Les Misérables once, and every time we tried to practice the Finale during the first month, I would start bawling my eyes out." Grinning, she winked at him. Watching him yawn, she smiled as she felt her own yawn tugging at her.  
  
It always baffled her how yawns were contagious considering that they were caused by the lack of oxygen in the lungs. Deciding against voicing the irony she found in such a simple action as yawning, she covered her mouth as her yawn finally escaped her. Nodding in agreement, she smiled at him. "I've been up for almost 21 hours." With the constant letters being sent back and forth filled with hurtful words, the arguing between her and her parents had become such a burden on her. When Faithe was worried or distressed, all hopes of sleeping seemed to dissipate. Resting her head against him, she released a deep breath and closed her eyes.  
  
Feeling the soft breeze glaze off her face as she felt the broom flow back into motion. Before she realized it, her mind focused in on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. As the soft beat consumed her thoughts, Faithe soon drifted off into sleep incidentally. She felt completely at ease, and for once, her sleep wasn't filled with angry voices yelling at one another.  
  
((Eh, not how I had thought about doing it, just a random last-minute idea. If you don't like it, let me know and I'll re-write it..))  
  
Flying back across the star-dotted sky, Orlando's eyes casually flit back to Faithe every once in awhile, smiling at the aura of serenity surrounding her. She was asleep, and, more than that, asleep in his arms. She had entrusted him with her safety, and the man couldn't be happier about that. Feeling as though he was protecting something, and as though he had a purpose in the world. it was nice, to say the least.  
  
As they approached the school, Orlando directed the broomstick towards the Athena dormitories, pulling up alongside the seventh year girls' window. For a moment, he was about to open it, when the thought of Faithe's roommates awaking crossed his mind.  
  
[I]He'd be in the middle of carrying Faithe to her bed when one of the girls would wake up. "Professor Lorenz, what are you doing?" she'd ask groggily.  
  
"Um." His face would contort as his mind searched for a wild lie to tell. Even if he was able to contrive a decently believable one, the fact that he had been carrying the young woman into her dormitory would most certainly be around the school the next day.[/I]  
  
Sighing, he wondered what to do with his sleeping angel. He could always wake her up and just have her creep back into her own room; she'd done it enough times before that she was sure not to be caught. And, even if she did happen to wake one her roommates, her breaking curfew wouldn't be as conspicuous as the astronomy professor walking in with her in his arms. Then again, he thought, looking down at her contented face, he couldn't possibly wake her. Then where was he to take her?  
  
For a moment, Orlando's mind must have been working like that of a criminal, searching for a place to hide the body. Slowly, he turned the broomstick around and made his way to the other side of the building, where his own room lay. Opening the window with his wand, he flew through it, taking great care to make sure the girl didn't hit the window frame. He lowered the broom until his feet touched the floor, then gathered the girl securely in his arms, letting the broomstick quietly fall to the floor.  
  
Walking over, he laid the girl down on his bed, and covered her with a sheet. Kissing her forehead, he whispered a "good night", and then took himself over to sleep on the couch for the night.  
  
As Orlando flew back towards Rosencrantz, Faithe fell even deeper into sleep, snuggling even further into him. Reaching the castle, as Orlando was trying to figure out what to do, the Athenian did not so much as stir as he circled the dormitory.  
  
Her body jumped slightly as the sound of the dropping broom met her ears, but she remained asleep. A soft groan escaped her throat when he laid her down gently on the bed, her eyebrows furrowing slightly in her sleep. Snuggling down into his pillow, the light smell of Orlando drifted into her nose.  
  
Visions of stars and constellations danced inside her dark eyelids, Orlando being the center of it all. As amazing as the twinling, sprinkled stars were, the deep brilliance of his blue eyes were the most extraordinary sight. Hugging his pillow even tighter, Faithe slept the best that night than she had all year long. 


	3. Morning After

The jet-black nighttime, speckled with tiny stars, gradually began to lighten. From the east, a soft gray began lighting up the sky; spreading like split ink over parchment. Soon the sky's canvas was completely gray; blank and untouched, it lay ready for the unseen artist to paint the dawn. A sudden burst of gold filled the sky, as though a yellow paintbrush had been swooshed across the void. More golden rays joined the first, and were soon joined by ribbons of pink, red and orange. Dancing in the sky, the colors spun together and pulled up the sun, creating a masterpiece of the former night sky.  
  
Warm light poured through the open window of Professor Orlando Lorenz's modest dormitory as the man lay sprawled comfortably on the small sofa, jean-covered legs dangling off the end with a contented smile plastered on his face. The soft sunlight gently ran over his face, lighting it up and causing his eyelids to flutter for a moment, and then to open.  
  
Rolling over, the man was more than a little surprised to nearly fall off the couch as he was used to having more room on his bed. Quickly placing a foot on the ground, he was able to stop himself from falling too loudly. It took the man a moment to remember exactly why he hadn't slept in his bed last night. In fact, he didn't realize that the dream he'd had while he was asleep had actually happened until his eyes caught a glimpse of Faithe, asleep and still clinging his pillow, lying in his bed.  
  
On one hand, the fact that everything he'd dream had truly happened was nice. After all, he had had a wonderful time. On the other, however, it was horrible. Thoughts began running through the man's mind at a mile a minute about how wrong what he had done was. His conscious tore at him. Suppose he had gotten carried away last night and something more had happened?  
  
Although that worst-case scenario hadn't transpired, he had still dreadfully wronged the girl. He had broken the fragile formality of the student-teacher relationship between the two by taking her up there. It had been his doing alone; after all, who could expect an eighteen-year-old girl to realize the complications that would ensue if that formality had been broken. Not only had he brought her up there on a sort of "date", but he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to kiss her, and, more than that, he had allowed their relationship to continue manifesting into something more by bringing the girl back to his place. Granted, he hadn't asked her to meet him out there with such morally repugnant intentions, but it had happened as such anyways.  
  
Her smile had been intoxicating, and her eyes had only furthered his high. With the stars taking their own mystifying effect on him as well, he had forgotten about his obligations to her as a teacher. Even if he had been completely sincere last night, what he had done still was inevitably wrong. She deserved neither the drama nor the turmoil that would most certainly reach her if they were to continue as such. If they had come that far in one night, then how far would another day in Fantasy Land get the pair? What a horrible, horrible mistake he had made.  
  
And, now, he would have to rectify it.  
  
But, how to do so? Glancing about the room, his eyes noted the time- [b]7:02[/b]- as they darted back to the sleeping girl. Gnawing on his tongue as the idea came to him, he quietly crept over to his dresser and snatched a T-shirt off the top of it and flung the clean shirt onto the couch as he grabbed some parchment from an end table. Yanking his gray shirt over his head, and throwing it gently across the room, so it ended up in a pile with the rest of his dirty clothing, he pulled the clean one on and snatched his black wizard's robe off the back of a chair, hurriedly putting it on himself.  
  
Leaning over the small end table, he began hastily scrawling a note for the girl when she woke up.  
  
"Miss Cunningham."  
  
His quill had barely scribbled these first two words onto the parchment when, once more, he paused. The words were so cold and formal. Then again, writing her name would have made their situation worse. He had to resort to formality; it was his only chance at keeping his emotions under control. Now, then, how could he say what he had to say without hurting her? It was impossible. Deciding to forgo tact, as he didn't know when the girl was going to wake up, he just began writing; straight-to-the-point.  
  
"Last night should never have happened. I knew I wasn't being exactly conventional when I asked you to meet me, but I never dreamed that I would overstep my bounds as a teacher like I did. It was terribly wrong, and I'm sincerely sorry for wronging you like that. As fond as I am of you, this can't happen.  
  
-Orlando"  
  
Glancing down at his words, the man shook his head. He wished he had had more time, but Faithe could wake up at any moment. Creeping over to the bed, he fought the urge to plant one last kiss on her lips and laid the note next to her and whispered a quick spell to make sure she found it.  
  
Tiptoeing away, he stole one last look at the young woman and quietly exited the room. Gently shutting the door behind him, he leaned against it and took a deep breath, not quite wanting to leave yet.  
  
A dark stage. Black curtains, black backdrop, black floor. No lights, no sound, no people; no people, save Isabelle Faithe Cunningham. Walking cautiously, her dark eyes stared intently into the black abyss, trying to see what may be there, or who. Turning cautiously, her eyes widened as the bright twinkling sparkles that only the stars could bring met her eyes. Looking around in awe, her breath caught in her throat.  
  
A cold chill ran through her body as she realized that she was not on a stage, but Faithe was in the heavens with the stars her company. Feeling herself falling downwards, she opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Clawing the air, a feeling of familiar dread flowed through her veins as she fell deeper and deeper, picking up speed. Closing her eyes, she anticipated the sickening thud that she knew would accompany her body hitting the ground. Alas, nothing came.  
  
Opening her eyes, Faithe found herself facing the ground, whose presence was becoming steadily closer to her. Flinging her arms out in front of her, the scream that had been edging out finally broke as she saw the ground fill her eyes as her was an inch away...  
  
Being jarred from her sleep by the nightmare, Faithe sat up almost as stiff as a board, the small scream emitting from her. Breathing hard, her body had broken out in a cold sweat, and her skin was ghostly pale and her body was shaking horribly. Covering her mouth, Faithe sprinted for the bathroom on wobbly legs, making it in time.  
  
About ten minutes later, any food that had entered her body had exited. Searching his bathroom, she located a small bottle of mouthwash, and quickly washed her mouth out. Looking at herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the pale, sick looking figure staring back at her. The fear that she had felt in her dream was still evident by the terror that shone through her eyes.  
  
Walking back to the bedroom, she realized exactly where she was. Checking the clock, she realized she needed to book it to her dorm to get ready for class. Furrowing her eyebrow, she spotted a piece of paper on the bed, a yellow glow around it. Sitting down to relieve her shaking knees, she picked up the letter from Orlando, still feeling slightly sick to her stomach.  
  
After reading what he had written, and comprehending it, Faithe sat there for a moment, feeling paralyzed. Her stomach felt all the more sicker from the words that echoed in her head. Feeling as if she had indeed fallen, Faithe stood up, her body still trembling from the night fright and getting sick.  
  
Refusing to cry, she threw the letter down on the ground, wishing it would burn. Walking towards the door, she practically threw it open as she stepped into the hallway, closing it softer than she intended. Feeling as if she may be sick again, the pale Athenian turned to walk to her dorm, only to find Orlando still there.  
  
As the man leaned against the wall, eyes closed and head in his hands, Orlando heard the door fling open. Mentally scolding himself for not leaving when he had had the chance, he kept his eyes low for a moment, trying to think of what to do, and finding that, in soothe, he hadn't a clue.  
  
If he could have, the man would have simply taken her in his arms and kissed her right then and there. Then again, if the circumstances were skewed in their favor, he would never have left the room. Instead, when he woke that morning, the man would have silently crept over to where the girl lay and woken her with a kiss on the forehead and a brilliantly boyish grin as he whispered the words "Good morning, beautiful" to her. But, alas, that wasn't how things were. He wasn't free to act how his heart desired. He was older, and it was his job- his obligation- to make sure that those unwritten rules of society were followed.  
  
The door had flung open. Obviously, the girl had found his note and was hurt by it, as he well knew she would be. This was precisely why he had wanted to make a clean getaway to the Astronomy Tower while she had been sleeping; he knew that once she was awake and that once he had seen how hurt she was, he would feel that longing to take her in his arms and make everything better again.  
  
His head gradually lifted itself and his brilliant blue eyes stared at her for a moment, with a look of remorse in them. She looked horrible, not ugly, but sickening. Her fair skin was now overcome with stomach-turning pallor, her mien pained and almost bitter, and she looked as though she was about to fall over. The man felt a pain of guilt plummet through himself as he witnessed what he had done to her, or, at least, what he thought he was fully at fault for.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, but there was no anger in her expression. Only pain and hurt. "What? Making sure I leave?" Once again, though her choice of words was one of anger, her voice only depicted hurt.  
  
Darting his glance away from her and reverting to the nervous habit of gnawing on his tongue, he soon tore a small gash in it and the warm, bittersweet taste of blood filled his mouth; the man didn't notice, though. He was too involved with Faithe to care about something as miniscule as a bleeding tongue. Her words hit him hard, and he bit his tongue again.  
  
[I]No, just can't make myself leave you.[/I]  
  
Once more, the words he wanted to say remained in the depths of his mind. Continuing to mutilate his tongue, he gazed back at her, this time with a hazy, ambiguously glassy look in his blindingly blue eyes. More than anything he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and apologize for being a jerk, but he couldn't, and that fact nearly killed the man right then and there.  
  
She felt weak physically, and not in the mood for a confrontation. Shaking her head, she lowered her eyes that were beginning to fill with tears. I should have known. There's always something wrong with me. Taking a step towards the direction of her dorm, she tried to sidestep him. Against his better judgment, he slowly walked over towards her, not stopping until he was less than a foot from her. His cold, vacant eyes melted into ones that clearly spoke what he could not say.  
  
"No," he replied, quietly and softly.  
  
"I haven't the right to ask for forgiveness, but I would like to think I still have the privilege to apologize to you.  
  
"I'm sorry, Faithe."  
  
There, it was done, now he could turn around and walk away. Somehow, though, he just couldn't do that. He needed to let her know that he was doing what he was doing not because he didn't care for her, but because he was obligated to do the right thing.  
  
Slowly his arms moved to embrace her and his head buried itself in her shoulder. After gently kissing her neck, his lips moved up to her ear.  
  
"I'm not supposed to feel like this about a student; I'm not supposed to hold you in my arms like this; I'm not supposed to kiss you like this."  
  
He paused for a moment and kissed her lips with undeniable passion, then continued whispering in the girl's ear:  
  
"It's wrong, Faithe. I'm wrong for feeling this way about you, and I have to stop this before I do anything worse. I don't want to hurt you, but this has to end before I get you in over your head."  
  
Sighing, he gently recoiled his arms from the girl and took a step back.  
  
"I know I have not the right to ask for forgiveness, and I won't. I just needed you to know that I'm sorry."  
  
With that, he turned and slowly began to walk away at a speed not much faster than that of a turtle. Another sigh escaped his lips and he put a hand to his face, burying his head into it as he walked. Why was the world so unfair as to deny him that which he desired so?  
  
Regretting the words as soon as they had rolled off her tongue, Faithe silently scolded herself for the bitterness her words and tone portrayed. Part of her truly wanted to admit that his view on the circumstance was right, and they couldn't continue where this was leading. He was indeed the teacher, and she was indeed the student. However, that little voice in her head popped up pointing out the fact that he was only three years older than she was.  
  
As he walked over to her, she felt her body tense up at the closeness of the two. Closing her eyes as she felt his arms slide around her and felt the soft weight of his head on her shoulder. Reaching up, Faithe instinctively laid her hand on the back of his head. Shaking her head as she felt the warmth of his lips on her neck, Faithe wanted to scream. This was torture. Life was being cruel to her. Why would fate and destiny place Orlando into her path, and allow her these feelings if the two had to simply walk away.  
  
Practically melting into his arms when he kissed her, two tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Thankful that she had used some of his mouthwash, her eyes reflected the same sense of longing that his did. How could he do that? How could he dump her and treat her so wonderfully at the same time? Faithe's head was beginning to spin again, signifying that she was about to be sick again.  
  
"Orlando," she turned towards him to speak. Her voice sounded rather weak, but there was a desperation in her voice. Stepping forward, she felt her emotions on her face, but aside from those two tears, she had yet to break down in front of him. Opening her mouth to speak, Faithe stopped herself abruptly. Placing her hand over her mouth, she ran quickly back into Orlando's room, heading straight for the bathroom.  
  
Luckily, she made it just in time. Retching ((for lack of a better word)) once more, she flushed the toilet and leaned back against the wall. Thinking better of it, she laid down on the floor. Feeling the coolness from the bare tiles, a small shiver ran through her body. Faithe rarely got sick, but when she did, she got -really- sick, despite what triggered the illness. She assumed it was from the lack of food and lack of sleep, but was triggered by the jarring nightmare.  
  
Walking down the hall, he could almost feel her fingers caressing the back of his neck (and their tingling touch that send shivers down his spine), her lips upon his own, and her body fitting perfectly against his own as she melted into him. A quiet, mournful breath escaped his lips as he closed his eyes.  
  
Since Demeter, and every day Orlando had been longing for someone to play her role in the drama of his life. A hand to entangle his fingers with; a body to lie next to as he watched the stars; someone to hold and to hold him... Now, slightly less than a year later, he had found the perfect person who didn't have to act the part; she [i]was[/i] the part... but he couldn't have her. Well, he could, but having her would come with inconceivably bad consequences.  
  
As he silently cursed himself for feeling so strongly for the girl, and beginning this whole mess, he heard her call his name. '[i]Don't turn around[/i],' he mind warned, '[/i]You'll never turn back, then someone will see you with her. It'll all be over and you'll have caused both of you more grief than it was worth.[/i]'  
  
Stopping mid-step, he turned his head to reluctantly correct the girl. After all, they could no longer be on such an informal "first-name-basis" with each other. "Professor Lorenz," he was about to say when her face was contorted will paleness once more and her legs sprinted back into his room.  
  
Not quite understanding, but worried about Faithe nevertheless, the man hesitantly followed her back into his room. Hearing the unpleasantness accompanied by a toilet flush, his mind figured it out. Of course, he didn't quite figure out that the girl was sick, he thought she was just upset about their situation. Hearing her slink to the ground, he hesitantly pushed the door open and stood halfway inside the small room.  
  
"Hey." he said quietly, maintaining his distance, but not staying so far away from her as to appear distant. "You alright?"  
  
With the coldness of the tile chilling her back slightly, she pushed herself back into a sitting position. Placing her hand over her forehead, Faithe almost didn't hear his voice. Well, she had heard his voice, but it took her a few moments of silence to comprehend that he was talking to her. Lowering her hand, she looked up at him with that same pained expression.  
  
"What do you care?" The words were out of her mouth before a second thought went through her mouth. They were words spoken from bitterness that came from being sick and edgy. As soon as her own words hit her ears, an apologetic expression crossed her face. This wasn't her. Faithe did not get bitter; however, she did have a bad habit of things 'slipping' out of her mouth when she was feeling rather unpleasant. "I am so sorry, Orl...professor."  
  
Holding onto the sink, she pulled herself to her feet. Her stance was rather unsturdy, and she rested her hand lightly on her stomach. Turning towards the door, she raised her eyes slightly. "I need to get to my class." A true Athenian. She was on the verge of fainting, but Faithe still refused to miss a class. Taking a few unsteady steps, her gaze fell back down on the tile. "I do have one thing to say though. Don't make this decision based on what you think I can or cannot handle. I wasn't going to be stupid enough to let what happened last night at the nova slip to anybody. If this is what you truly want because you have different feelings because we are no longer under the stars, that's one thing, but don't make this decision based on technicalities that can easily be gotten around." She felt sick again, but it wasn't the same sickness that involved the toilet.  
  
Faithe had only opened up to three other people in her entire life, and at some point in time, they had all betrayed her or shoved her aside. As familiar a feeling as this had become in her life, this was the first time that these feelings of affection had ever been involved. Sighing, her hand flew to the sink to keep from falling. The sooner he moved out of her way, the quicker she could go to potions.  
  
Her sneering words came as quite a shock to the man, prompting him to cringe inwardly. He truly hadn't meant to turn her from a sweet girl into a bitter one. Although her consequent apology softened what had been said, the way she corrected herself got to him. Hearing her voice refer to him as "Professor" just didn't sound right. He had always adored the way she had said his name, the inflection that had always come with it, especially. And, though the same exhilarating voice spoke it, the word "Professor" just didn't give him the same feeling. Then again, that was a good thing. Wasn't it?  
  
His brilliantly blue, yet penitent, eyes watched as she struggled to lift herself up and turn towards him. As she near-stumbled towards him, his arms instinctively reached out to support her, yet he quickly backed off when she regained her stability and began speaking.  
  
Faithe's words were beautiful- beautifully idealistic. As much of an optimist as the man normally was, even he knew better than to think they could get around technicalities. Even if they could, the technicalities would still be in place, and, for the most part, rules weren't meant to be broken; they were meant to keep order and prevent bad things from happening. If they overlooked the rules, then who knows what sort of chaos would befall them?  
  
As he was older than her, Orlando had much more experience with these sorts of things. He knew what went on in relationships; fueled by emotional highs, physical interests would begin to take hold and, if they weren't handled with immaculate prudence, ruin it all. He was the elder, and it was his responsibility to make sure the rules were followed. If he allowed himself to continue exploring this opportunity with Faithe, there were so many things that could go wrong. If their relationship went wrong at any time, Faithe's education would be jeopardized, to say the least. And, even if their relationship should happen to go well, if the school body, any of the staff members, the Head Mistress, or, Merlin forbid, the Daily Prophet, got wind of it. No, it was too much of a risk.  
  
'I have my faults, but deception isn't one of them," he said quietly, after she had spoken, "This isn't what I truly want, and I think you know that. It is what's best though, Faithe. I'm not making this decision based on technicalities, but rather on right versus wrong. Three years isn't a large difference in the real world, but as long as you're my student and I'm your teacher.  
  
"There are too many risks- too many ways this can end badly. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
His mind rewound to her earlier comment "different feelings because we are no longer under the stars" irked him. Didn't she understand how much he cared for her? If she hadn't gotten the message last night, one would think that, at the very least, the kiss he had given her in the hallway would have demonstrated his affection quite well. The whole reason that he was putting an end to what they had before it could grow was because he was trying to save her; everything he did was for her good.  
  
Orlando's thought process was cut short as his eyes caught sight of Faithe's hand reaching out for the sink in an attempt to steady herself. Taking a step forward, the man tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.  
  
"You're sick. You're not going to class, Faithe," he declared quietly. "At least not until you can walk under your own power," he added with the slightest hint of a smile upon his lips, "I'll get you excused somehow; don't worry about that."  
  
Hoping that either she had regained her trust in him or that she would be too weak to fight him, the man gradually lifted the girl into his arms, wrapping one arm around her back and placing the other under her knees. Carefully, he carried her out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom, nonchalantly kicking the infamous note under a piece of furniture on the way, where he laid her gently down upon the bed.  
  
"What can I do for you?"  
  
Faithe's eyes narrowed at his insinuation, "Deception? You think I'm trying to deceive you?" Scoffing, she shook her head, almost in disgust. How could he think that? The very sound of that word made her skin crawl. Shaking her head again, she made an attempt to push him off as he wrapped his arms around her. She couldn't handle the feel of his touch. It made everything worse. Her feeble attempts to brush him off failed, however, as he lifted her into his arms.  
  
She didn't want to be in his bed. His pillows, his sheets, his comforter, it all had his smell, his essence. Sitting up, her body swayed slightly from dizziness. "This can't be right if it feels so wrong." The words came out softly, but they hadn't been meant to come out at all. Wincing slightly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up. Taking a few moments to catch her balance before she fell, Faithe turned her brown eyes on him.  
  
"Stop saying you don't want to hurt me! What do you think this is doing? Filling me with explicit joy?" Angry with herself for the shakiness that was intertwined with her voice, Faithe felt her eyes well up with tears. "Orlando, I thought about the risks last night. All of that went through my head; spontaneity is not a personality trait of mine." Shaking her head, she looked away from him in an attempt to calm her emotions down. Rather than feeling the tears disappear, she felt a single drop slip down her cheek. "I would drop that class in a heartbeat if it meant that we could be together. I would graduate early, because I have the credits to do so, if it meant I could be with you. If the fact that you are my teacher is the only thing standing in the way, I can guarantee that the problem can be fixed."  
  
Finally forcing herself to look back at him, she scolded herself for sounding so desperate. "I don't trust people very easily, Orlando, but my instincts were telling me the I could trust you, and that I could be open with you. I have only felt like I could trust three other people my entire life, and you would think that I would have learned by now." Lowering her eyes once more, she took a few steps towards the door, but stopped in her tracks. Turning her head, her brown eyes skimmed over his face, "I guess I learned that I should just keep my head in the books." Turning her head, she took a wobbly step towards the door.  
  
Watching her fight him, Orlando's bright blue eyes grew small and a touch of gray could be seen in them. The man's morals were slowly losing the battle to his heart. His eyes never left Faithe's trembling and shaking figure as she sat up and began walking across the tiny room. She was so incredibly sick, he could tell, and, yet, so determined.  
  
As Faithe gradually increased the distance between herself and him, Orlando timidly matched her pace. Stopping at the footboard of the bed, he placed a hand on it and resolved to stay there and hear her out, yet was ready to bolt for her if she should be on the verge of collapsing.  
  
Listening to her, each word struck down another soldier in the man's moral army. Bit by bit, his resistance was torn down. Though she had barely known him a month, and not truly known him until the previous night, Faithe was willing to give up her life for him. In one sense, he was creeped out, and began gnawing on his tongue again. But, on another, deeper level, there was something complementary to her feelings in his own soul. The gnawing ceased. He didn't know what had made him so confident last night; he had felt so comfortable with her. There was something unexplainable between them.  
  
'[I]I [/I]don't[I] want to hurt you,[/I]' he wanted to say, but he knew that words would mean nothing at the moment. Actions spoke louder than words.  
  
Moving a gait somewhere between walking and running, he made his way towards Faithe, never letting his eyes leave hers for a moment. The gray had faded from them now, and their brilliant bright blue color had returned. The smallest of sheepish smiles began to cross the man's face as he reached a hand around her waist, turning her towards him as the other hand reached up and ran down the girl's jawbone; his eyes never left hers.  
  
Urgently pulling her close to him, his eyes took one final stare into hers before closing themselves. His head tilted ever so slightly and his lips met hers, kissing her affectionately. If she still thought he didn't long for her after that, then there was most certainly no hope fore the girl.  
  
Reluctantly pulling back, solely due to a lack of oxygen, the man allowed his hand to slowly move from her cheek to around the back of her neck, running his fingers through her hair.  
  
"Oh, please don't do that," he entreated, still holding her close to him, "Look, Faithe, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to force you into anything, but, if you want this as much as I do..." His voice trailed off as his lips found hers again for a short moment.  
  
"You don't have to give up your life for me," he said, looking into her beautiful chocolate eyes, "We'll find a way to work this out, somehow. Trust me, I'll never hurt you on purpose. I was just scared that somehow I would, inevitably, I mean."  
  
Her arms wrapped instinctively around his neck when he kissed her, feeling herself melt against him. A small, reluctant groan left her mouth when he pulled away, a slight pouty expression visible on her face. "I wouldn't be giving up anything at all. I originally had planned on graduating early, but I guess I became too enthralled in my Astronomy class."  
  
Her eyebrows came together in a slightly puzzled expression as he babbled on. Reaching up, she laid her first index and middle fingers lightly on his lips, signifying him to stop talking. "Orlando, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, or be involved in something you don't want to be involved in. I just don't want you to make decisions based on things that can easily be gotten around, or based on what I say. I don't want you to feel obligated."  
  
Opening her mouth to say more, her stomach churned inside of her. Pulling away from him quickly, she raced back to the bathroom. Falling to her knees harder than she had meant to, Faithe took a deep breath, but luckily the sickness passed. Groaning, she sat back, wishing desperately for this to end. Burying her head in her hands, Faithe felt herself trembling as if she had indeed gotten sick. Despising that blasted nightmare, she closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the spinning room.  
  
"Faithe," the man interrupted softly, "I do want to be involved with this. I don't feel obligated; trust me, I." Feeling her pull away from him quickly and watching her dart back into the bathroom, he half walked and half ran after her, concerned.  
  
Cringing as he heard her knees fall hard upon the cold tile flooring, he rushed over and knelt behind her, gently pulling his hands on her shoulders. [I]What could be wrong, now?[/I] the man wondered. He had presumed that the reason she had been sick earlier was due to nervousness about their own situation, but, now, with that, mostly, resolved, he was at a loss. If she was sick, then why hadn't she been sick last night?  
  
Sitting down behind her, he felt his hand moved as she leaned forward to bury her head in her hands, trembling.  
  
"Hey." he cooed softly. His arms tenderly wrapped themselves around her, lifting her slightly as they pulled her back into his embrace, nearly onto his lap. "What's wrong, Faithe? Talk to me."  
  
Slightly startled that he had followed her, Faithe's body jumped slightly as she felt his hand on her shoulders. As he pulled her closer to him, she rested her head against his chest, keeping her eyes closed. Feeling her body relax against his, her shaking became less jittery.  
  
"I just..." What was she going to tell him? She had a nightmare and it made her sick? He's going to think I'm some twit. Shrugging to herself, she decided that she couldn't lie to him. However, she didn't necessarily have to tell it to him in detail.  
  
"I had a nightmare right before I woke up. Well, it was more like I was reliving something in my dreams, and I woke up sick." That was all he needed to know. At least, she felt that's all he needed to know. With her eyes closed, the vision of her nightmare flashed before her eyes, causing her eyes to shoot open. Shaking once again, she snuggled into him. "I don't get sick very often, but when I do, I get really sick. It's not contagious though."  
  
She hated how weak and pathetic she sounded. All her life Faithe had been so brought up against sounding as if she had a weak voice. If she was sick, she still had to perform, and it had better be good.  
  
Nodding as she spoke, the man slowly pulled her closer to him, and gently stroked her hair. Tightening his arms around her when she began shaking again, he kissed the top of her head as she snuggled against him.  
  
A small, quiet laugh escaped the man's lips as she made a point of her sickness not being contagious. "Even if it was, I'd still be here with you," he replied with a smile.  
  
"Not to prod," he whispered hesitantly, "Because we all have bad memories that aren't exactly pleasant to discuss, but what'd you dream? You said it was as though you were reliving something."  
  
If she didn't want to tell him, that was fine, but the man's curiosity had indeed been sparked. Of course, now that he had mentioned everyone having "bad memories", she'd probably want to know about his. '[I]Way to go, Orlando[/I],' the man thought sarcastically.  
  
A small, weak smile flickered on her face for a moment as she looked up at him. Her eyes being opened, however, was a mistake: the room was still spinning. Feeling herself tense up slightly as his inquiry, Faithe's eyes opened again. Tilting her head up, her dark eyes ran along his jaw bone until they finally stopped at his eyes. Those eyes; those bright blue eyes. The very sight of them caused Faithe's heart to flutter, and she knew that there was no way she could keep anything from him.  
  
"It was...well..." Sighing, she didn't really know what to say, or how to say it. "Have you wondered -why- I am so terrified of flying? When I was thirteen, I was outside with my brother and some of his friends, playing quidditch. Well, after the game, some of us were just flying around, and some of his friends were still playing around with the quidditch equipment." Swallowing hard, a shiver ran down her back at the memory of what was to come. Closing her eyes, she tried to throw out the bitter taste that was in her mouth, and fought the tears that were wanting to break free. Taking a rather shaky deep breath, she opened her eyes once more, her eyes glazed over.  
  
"We were about eighty feet in the air, when one of the boys hit a bludger, only it didn't go where he meant for it to. I didn't know it was coming until it hit me, in the head. I fell." Turning her head, her eyes stared down at her arm, remembering the pain from the bludger, and the pain from the ground. Her voice was starting to get emotional the more she spoke, and a lone tear slipped down her cheek. "I landed on my head and my neck. I was paralyzed for almost a month in a hospital bed. For two weeks of that month I was in a coma. They had to realign most of my spine, which helped bring feeling back into most of my body. I spent about a year and a half in rehabilitation, building up my muscles again."  
  
Burying her head back in his chest, Faithe closed her eyes, allowing a few more tears to spill down her cheeks. "I had the dream about the fall, and that's what made me sick." Her body was trembling again, but she was proud that she hadn't completely lost control of her emotions.  
  
Meeting her gaze, Orlando's eyes radiated nothing but compassion and understanding, emotions that they retained as she spoke. Her weak voice carried an undercurrent of fear to it, and he could feel her begin quivering again. Normally such a strong, independent young woman, it was evident that she was truly terrified while she retold the story to him. Listening intently to her tale, his protective nature, when it came to Faithe, intensified with every word she spoke.  
  
Although it wasn't quite the same, her story revived feelings lost inside him from his own childhood experiences- bad memories, meant to be forgotten. Coming home from school every day (at least before his fourth year, when he had finally been allowed to attend Rosencrantz) with that feeling of utter dread lingering in the pit of his stomach- the eternal fear that loomed inside every crevasse of his soul- as he wondered what sort of beating he would be put through when at last he reached his home. Rather than walk straight home along the roads, the boy would choose to saunter along the sandy coastline; it took him longer to get home that way. When at last he reached the porch steps, he recalled lingering, and taking two steps to get up each stair, slowing himself down as much as possible.  
  
When he was slightly more than halfway up the stairs, the back door would open, and his mother would promenade out with a look of utmost disappointment on her face. It never changed, either. Every day she would still be ashamed of him, no matter what the young boy did. She would furrow her eyebrows and cross her arms over her chest, waiting impatiently for him. He'd hurry up the rest of the stairway, stumbling upon the top step and tumbling onto the ground, backpack spilling over the porch. He'd apologize and quickly gather his things, but it would make no difference. Silently walking into the house, the door would close and the terror would begin.  
  
Although it wasn't quite the same, the intensity of the fear paralleled both their accounts.  
  
He was at a loss for words. Then again, there was nothing he could say to make it all better for her; what had happened had happened. He hadn't had a clue last night of how horrendous her broomstick past had been. Now that he knew, the fact that she had been able to be so relaxed in the sky last night, or even to get on the broomstick at all, simply amazed him. She obviously trusted him more than he had thought to allow him to take her up there. A small happy, yet sad, smile crossed his face, reflecting the mélange of emotions stirring within him.  
  
"Oh, Faithe." he breathed, running a hand gently along her back. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Faithe shook her head slowly. "There are worse problems in the world besides mine." Relaxing against him, she felt her trembling start to fade away as his hand rubbed against her back. Feeling sick again, she took a deep breath, swallowing the nausea. "I didn't even find your...letter until after I had gotten sick the first time." Hesitating at the memory that had been reality only moments before, Faithe snuggled into him even further.  
  
"Do you have a class?" The thought just struck her that he had probably been on his way to the Astronomy tower when she had walked out of the room. "I don't want you to be late because of me." Guilt settled over her that she had probably caused him to be late or not be where he needed to be. The last thing she wanted to do was be a burden to him, which she felt she already was.  
  
Watching her shake her head at him, a sympathetic smile appeared on Orlando's face.  
  
"Perhaps," he replied, "but they don't seem to matter much to you, do they?" Though the words could be interpreted as sarcastic, the inflection of his voice would lead one to the conclusion that the problems of the world didn't matter to him either. If children were starving in India, then, of course, he believed it was a shame, but he wasn't going to get worked up about it.  
  
Choosing to ignore her remark about his hastily scrawled letter, he simply let his sympathetic smile melt into a wide grin as she snuggled closer into him. Nearly feeling her tense up as she randomly asked if he had a class, the man himself was slightly startled. Immediately, his brilliant blue went to the watch upon his wrist. Not wanting to relinquish his grasp on Faithe, he ended up twisting himself in an awkward fashion to see the time.  
  
[b]7:53[/b]- class for both Faithe and himself began in seven minutes.  
  
Seven minutes in heaven, then an hour in hell. Well, not quite "hell", but, fairly close. There was almost nothing more irritating to the man than the manner in which his first period class chose to behave. As a teacher, he understood the fact that not every student would be as interested in astronomy as himself, and that not every student would be as gifted with astronomy as himself, yet the fact that those who cared not to learn disrupted those who wished to. That fact sincerely irritated him.  
  
"Yeah. The both of us do, in fact," Orlando replied with a forlorn sigh, laying his "Not for a few minutes, though."  
  
"I think I should probably change clothes," looking down at her yellow pajama bottoms, she shook her head slightly. Making an attempt to sit up, she groaned at the dizziness that washed over her, quickly leaning back against Orlando. Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. "Then again, maybe I'll just trudge to class like this. Would you call me for disobeying dress code?"  
  
A slightly pouty expression crossed her face as her bottom lip poked out slightly, "I do too care about other people's problems." Making an attempt to cross her arms, she felt extremely weak and decided against it. Forcing herself to sit up straight, she leaned her back against the wall, her hand raising lightly to her forehead. Swaying ever so slightly, she groaned again, swallowing the sickness that was struggling to rise again.  
  
Laying her hand back in her lap, she glanced at him with a weak smile on her lips. "I didn't do my homework last night. I was distracted."  
  
A slight chuckle escaped the man's lips as he thought of the ever-Athenian Faithe showing up to class in her pajamas. As she tried to get up, his arms relinquished their grasp on her, yet, as he felt her weaken against him again, they quickly found their way around her.  
  
"You know I would," he replied with a grin, "...call you 'gorgeous', that is."  
  
Seeing her put a hand to her forehead, his momentary humor ceased. Scooting along the floor to be in front to her, Orlando rose up onto his knees and kissed the top of her forehead, placing both his hands upon her shoulders to steady her.  
  
"Distracted?" he repeated, with mock confusion in his voice. Though he was still concerned for her health, he couldn't help but joke a bit with her.  
  
"Don't worry about that," he added, "You're not going to class anyways."  
  
Standing on his feet, but keeping his knees bent, he took one of Faithe's arms and slung it around his shoulder. Moving his other hand down, he tried to find an easy place to slide his other arm beneath her, but couldn't.  
  
"Try to stand up just a little bit," he implored, smiling at her, "I can't get my other hand under you like this."  
  
"Ha!" A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips at his comment. "Maybe gorgeous for a donkey on a bad hair day." Reaching up, she placed her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head, "I must look like such a mess right now. I'm sorry you had to see me like this." As he moved in front of her, she gave him a truly apologetic expression, closing her eyes when he kissed her forehead.  
  
"You? A distraction?" Her voice was filled with jest as she a small grin spread over her face. "You are a horrible distraction. A horribly wonderful distraction." As he placed her arm around his shoulder, Faithe's head tilted slightly, resting lightly below his shoulder. When he asked her to try to stand, she repositioned herself, managing to bring herself to her knees. Groaning at the sudden dizziness, she wrapped both her arms around his neck, her head laying down on his shoulder.  
  
"I have to go to class. I can't just...not."  
  
Rolling his brilliant blue eyes as she made a futile effort to convince him she wasn't gorgeous, a smile crossed Orlando's lips and he shook his head. Why did all beautiful women refuse to admit that they were attractive? Sighing inwardly, the man supposed that that was something he'd never know.  
  
Hastily sliding his arm behind her knees as she raised herself up for him, Orlando lifted her into his arms. Wincing as the groan escaped her lips, he offered a sympathetic smile. That right there was precisely the reason he wasn't about to let her go to class. Although he did understand that longing to go to class no matter what, as he held that same trait, he could see she was in no shape to do so. The poor girl couldn't even sit up without being overcome by a wave of nausea/weakness. More than that, now that he knew was had caused it, every time he would imagine himself back on the staircase to his house; that fear, that completely pure terror. no one should have to feel that.  
  
Pulling her close to him and laying his head slightly on hers, he carefully stood up and walked out of the bathroom, into the main part of the room, if one could call it that.  
  
"You're not going to class, Faithe," he insisted quietly, "And you can too 'just. not', especially since I'm not letting you leave my side until I feel you'll be alright.  
  
"Well, actually, I should at least make an appearance of sorts in class, but, you're staying here for the two or so minutes it'll take me to do that." he babbled on, pretty much just thinking out loud.  
  
Snuggling closer to him as he picked her up, her eyes closed as she felt his head next to hers. It was probably a good thing that Faithe was relatively light, the effect of all those years dancing. Still, she couldn't help but think she was being a major inconvenience.  
  
"You especially can't miss class, Orlando. I can make it through class," even as she spoke, her voice was coming out soft and drowsey. She felt herself trying to slip back into sleep, but opened her eyes in an attempt to keep herself awake. Lifting her for a moment, Faithe looked him in the eye, "I'm feeling better. Really. Please let me go to class." Poking out her bottom lip purposely, she laid her head back down, this time more on his chest than his shoulder.  
  
Faithe sounded more like a seven year old who had played hookey from school trying to convince her mother that she was feeling better in order to play with her friends. However, she was trying to convince Orlando to let her -go- to class.  
  
Closing her eyes, she listened to the monotonous rhythm of his heart, feeling the soft thump against her ear. Mmm... I could easily fall asleep like this.  
  
She was really quite adorable, lying in his arms like that, the man thought to himself as a smile crept onto his face. Yet, in spite of that, she was undeniably weak and in no condition to attend class. Her weak voice was getting to him, and she felt nearly lip in his arms.  
  
"Darling, you're not going to class," he whispered quietly, "I'm not letting you out of my sight until you can stand under your own power, at the very least.  
  
"And don't worry about me. I [i]teach[/i] the class; I assure you, I'll find someway to get around not being there..."  
  
[i]'..I just haven't figured that part of the plan out quite yet.'[/i]  
  
Then again, he hadn't exactly figured out [i]any[/i] part of the plan. If neither Faithe nor he showed up to class, it would look bad. On top of that, Faithe's roommates would certainly notice that she hadn't fallen asleep or woken up in her bed. Questions would start to be asked, and, soon enough, they would be caught. All sorts of heinous scenarios began to fill the man's mind- scenarios that had been the primary reason he for his action's of about an hour ago. Frightened as he was of what could happen if the two were ever caught, he had tried to break it off and found that task impossible to go through with, and, more than that, Faithe was in no condition to deal with that type of stress.  
  
Reverting his mind back to exactly what he could- or rather, had to- do at the moment, he found himself at a loss for competent thoughts. Suddenly, a thought struck him: although he couldn't cancel class, he could postpone it.  
  
"I've got it all figured out," Orlando concluded after a moment of pensive silence, "I'll postpone class and, instead of a lecture, tonight, around 8:30, we'll observe some astronomical phenomenon. I don't know what right now, but there has to be something spectacular happening tonight..."  
  
Rambling on, his voice got faster with every hastily desperate word. Walking quickly towards his small desk, the man bent his knees so that the hand that was underneath Faithe's knees could reach the quill. Scribbling a note to the class, he bent his wrist up and handed it to Faithe.  
  
"Is that believable at all?" he asked with a grin. "Because, if not, we've got about..." Pausing, he glanced at his watch, "...three minutes before class starts. So, that'll probably equal about two minutes to think of something else. I do believe this is the one time in my life that I'm actually pleased to have a class where practically every single student is tardy every day..."  
  
"Put you down?" Orlando repeated, "Never."  
  
As she regaled him with the information that a stardust shower would occur that evening, all doubts in his mind ceased to exist. Lighting kissing the top of her forehead in gratitude for solving his problem, he gently took the note back from her hands and placed it between his fingers.  
  
"I'm sure you will be alright," he agreed, awkwardly retrieving his wand from whereeve it was that he put it last. "But, really, you're not impeding on me. I'd rather spend an hour with you, even a sick you, than try to motivate a class full of people who don't want to be there.  
  
"But, they still will probably show up within the next minute, so we're going to have to go put this note up."  
  
Pointing the wand at himself, and Faithe as well, as she was still in his arms, he grinned.  
  
"Hold on tight."  
  
Whispering the apparation spell, the two were instantaneously transported to the inside of the astronomy classroom. Quickly "swish-and-flick"ing his wand, Orlando stuck the note to the board and then transported himself and Faithe back to his room.  
  
"Done and done," he declared with a grin. "Now you've got all my attention."  
  
Tightening her arms around him slightly, Faithe's stomach lurched as they apparated. Partly because of her being sick, and partly because of her uneasiness that somebody could have just as easily already been in class.  
  
Letting out a deep breath once they were back in his room, Faithe looked up at him with a you're insane expression written clearly on her face. "That was really risky Orlando."  
  
After offering him a rather stern look, she couldn't help the smile that finally broke out on her face. Shaking her head, she buried her face into his chest. Looking back up at him, she tilted her head slightly, "I'm really hungry, but I don't think that's a good idea."  
  
"Yeah, probably," Orlando agreed, grinning, "but it was the quickest way to get the job done without letting you down."  
  
Though he played it casual on the outside, the man was silently grateful that there hadn't been anyone in the classroom. That would have been... awkward, to say the least.  
  
"I don't either," he said, reverting to his concerned self, "You don't need to be regurgitating anything anymore today."  
  
Gnawing on his tongue slightly, his mind began to get thoughts in it. He had gotten her out of first period, and, although he didn't have a second class, he was sure she did, and, if she wasn't better, she'd have to go to the infirmary to be excused from class. Though the nurse was a gentle- hearted woman, Orlando didn't exactly want to ditch Faithe like that. Although he'd never exactly been a potions master, perhaps there was something he could mix up to help Faithe out. Then again, he reminded himself, she wasn't sick due to an actual sickness, it was just the recurring fear.  
  
"I'll get you something to nibble on," he said, sitting down upon the couch and laying her down so that her head rested upon the arm of the couch and her back was on his lap, "But only after you've calmed down a bit... gotten your mind off the nightmare, y'know?"  
  
Readjusting herself slightly to make her back a little more comfortable, she tilted her head to the side slightly so she could see him. "I think I am all right now. I hate it so much when that happens. It's not so much the memory what happened, I don't think. It's always the type of nightmare where if I hurt in my dream, I hurt in real life. You know what I mean? Then it's complete muscle memory, and it's so much pain that I think that's why I get sick." Shrugging lightly, she closed her eyes.  
  
"Do you always treat all your girlfriends like this?" Opening her eyes, she offered him a mischevious smile. "Seriously though, how does somebody as wonderful as you not have a million girlfriends? I know you said you've only had one." Looking at him curiously, she began to absentmindedly run her index finger back and forth on his collar bone. "What happened with that? I just don't see how somebody would just...let you go."  
  
"Alright, then, darling," Orlando replied with a smile, stroking her hair.  
  
As she continued speaking, though, he gradually became more and more uncomfortable with each prodding question that escaped Faithe's mouth. He knew where she was leading, and it was a place he'd rather not revisit. Then again, he didn't exactly want to keep anything from her. Gnawing nervously on his tongue, his brilliant blue eyes darted wildly about the room. Inside, he was screaming; outside, he just looked a little unnerved.  
  
Closing his eyes as she ran her finger along his collar bone, Demeter's face flashed through his mind. Those blindingly emerald green eyes, the soft cherry lips, and her long, chesnut curls surrounding her pale face.... How many times he had run his fingers through her cascading tresses, gazing into her eyes as they laid below the crystal night sky. And, then, that one particular night, the way her eyes had held that burning fire...  
  
"I love you, Orlando..." Her breathy words echoed through his mind, reviving lost memories that were much better off locked away.  
  
Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked away from Faithe.  
  
"I don't know what happened," he whispered, nearly inaudibly  
  
Her eyebrows furrowing at his reaction, Faithe felt his body tense, saw the edgy look in his eyes. She would never want to pry into anything he wasn't willing to talk about. At the same time though, it may do him some good to talk about it. Using the couch, she pushed herself into a sitting position, pushing her tushy into his lap. Wrapping her arm closest to him, she reached out with her other hand. Lightly touching his chin, she diverted his face back towards hers.  
  
"Hey," Faithe's voice came out soft and soothing, a reasurance tone, "Talk to me Orlando." There was nothing evasive or pushy about the way she said her words; it was a suggestion more than a direction. Moving her hand softly from his chin to his cheek, there was a deep look of concern in her dark eyes. She didn't like seeing him like this. Those eyes that always held a sparkle, a mischief to them, the passion. All that seemed lost for the moment being, and was replaced with sadness. Maybe regret?  
  
Though he allowed Faithe to turn his head back towards her, his eyes continued to look past her, holding that ever-vacant, ambiguous look in them. His normally smiling lips had fallen into a blank stare. Slowly, the glaze melted and he looked into her eyes. He could see that she didn't want to press him, but that her curiousity was innocent, holding the same serenity that she herself did.  
  
"It's not a fairy tale, exactly."  
  
His relationship with Demeter had started out well enough. In fact, for the time it had lasted, Orlando had woken up every morning with a grin plastered on his face. Truly floating on air, nothing could ruin the wonderful mood that loving her, and being loved by her, had put him in. Engrossed and enamored with each other, life had been perfect. At least, for the time it had lasted...  
  
"What do you want me to tell you?" he asked quietly. "Everything? Or just what you'll be able to handle?"  
  
Her eyebrows furrowed together slightly as uncomfort settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like the idea of his not looking her in the eye; moreso, she didn't like it that he didn't feel he could look her in the eye. Stroking his cheek lightly, she felt the hair on the back of her neck prick up when he finally did look into her eyes. She could tell there was a void, and she was surprised at the mixture of emotions that she felt.  
  
"Life isn't a fairy tale Orlando." Knowing the words brough no comfort, Faithe's eyes fell to the couch as she allowed the hand on his cheek to slip down. "Tell me as much as you're willing to tell me." Looking back up at him, her face held an expression of unrelenting concern. "I don't want to push you into opening up to me sweetheart."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Biting his lip for a moment, Orlando's gaze retreated to the distance and his head turned away from her once more, only slightly, this time, though. Telling her of his sinful past, he felt ashamed. Young, stupid, and in love, there were so many things he had wished he could have changed. Yet, what was done was done, and there was nothing that could change it now. Besides, Faithe deserved to know the truth.  
  
"Her name was Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance," he said quietly, "and from September 14 of our seventh year here until last July 20, she was my world."  
  
Casting a wary glance back at Faithe for a moment, then reverting his eyes to the wall past her, he continued.  
  
"We had met back in fourth year, after we had been partnered up in Herbology, but, save that project, we didn't really speak to one another until seventh year, in the library one day. Professor Argonite had just assigned a rather extensive potions project, and, evidently, I had checked out the very book she needed. We ended up working together, and the relationship ended up growing from there."  
  
Sighing to himself, he paused a minute to swallow the lump in his throat.  
  
"She was a nice girl- sweet, pretty, fun to be around. I was completely enamored with her, as much as she was with me. But, being in love and young, equaled idiocy, and, eventually, we did some things, or rather, something, we shouldn't have. And, after that, when I realized how wrong it had been, I tried to rectify it, but Demeter didn't see things the way I did.  
  
"I don't blame her though, she didn't know any better. We were both young, and stupid, I suppose. She thought I didn't need her anymore, that I didn't want her anymore. I did, though, I really did. But I couldn't make her understand what I was feeling, and she couldn't make me understand what she was feeling...  
  
"I don't know how, and I don't know why, but, somehow, we had lost that connection we'd had. The way we'd been able to communicate absolutely everything to one another by just looking into the other's eyes... it was gone."  
  
Orlando's voice was quiet now, sorrowful, even, and he spoke slowly, with a somber undertone in his voice.  
  
"And so, she and I just faded away..."  
  
Faithe listened intently, feeling slightly awkward. She could understand his hurt, but she couldn't sympathize with how it had felt. Her entire eighteen years on Earth, being in a relationship hadn't been anywhere on her priority, or even her possibilities list. This was sad though. His love, his life, all of it disapeared.  
  
At the same time though, she couldn't picture Orlando doing something like that. It just didn't seem like him, but then again, there seemed to be a lot the two didn't know about each other. The very thought of his being with another female made Faithe feel very uneasy, but she had asked. She would never admit it, but she felt a small hint of jealousy and anger towards this woman. How could she just let him go over something as stupid as that? Orlando was the most remarkable person she had ever met, and he was certainly the most compassionate, and she just gave him up.  
  
"Do you miss her?" It was an honest question. Despite the many prospective motives that she could be accused of for asking this question, she was asking more as a friend than anything else. She hated seeing him so forlorn. Of course, the idea of him being still in love with his ex- girlfriend made her feel incredibly uncomfortable, but she'd rather see him happy than anything else.  
  
((On a completely random topic, I realized that there's quite a few inaccuracies in the Demeter story. First, in Supernova, I called her a Hufflepuff prefect and said they'd met that way. ignore that. Second, in the last post I made, it might have seemed like their relationship lasted from September of their seventh year until April of their seventh year, that's a mistake. It was from September of their seventh year, to the previous April before "present" day. Surry 'bout that. And, now, on with the plot!))  
  
Faithe's words resonated through Orlando's head, bouncing off the walls of his skull. Inside an old filmstrip of memories played through his mind, reminding him of all the sheer magic that their relationship had entailed. The feeling of her straight, thin blond hair between his fingers, the sensation of her creamy skin against his body, the jolt he had gotten in his stomach every time her emerald eyes had stared into his, the way feeling her breath upon his neck had sent shivers down his spine.  
  
Warm tears slowly began to fill Orlando's brilliant blue eyes, prompting them to shut in a futile effort to rid themselves of them. A small, almost mournful, breath passed through his lips as he returned his eyes to her.  
  
Absentmindedly, his hand ran up her arm, to her shoulder, and then back down again. So young, so innocent, but so indescribably admirable. The look in her eyes, though it was one of concern for him, also held fear. She was scared- scared of losing him- and he could feel it. He was sure he had scared her, not only by speaking so fondly of Demeter, but also by speaking of things that the girl had yet to experience.  
  
Seeing Faithe like that, though, so vulnerable, and yet, so willing to put herself on the line for him, Orlando felt his stomach grow weak with a combination of respect and desire for her. It was in that moment in which he realized just how deeply he felt for the girl.  
  
"Yes, Faithe," he replied solemnly, "but the part of her that I miss is too far gone to dwell on. I've moved on; she's no longer my world."  
  
Shifting his hand behind her neck, he gently leaned towards her while brining her face towards his own, until their lips met in a short, sweet, and gently kiss.  
  
"You are," he whispered, opening his eyes to gaze into her.  
  
After she had asked the question, she realized how awkward a position she must have put him in. Slightly regretting it, she reached up and touched his face lightly. Seeing his eyes fill with tears, she scolded herself. Running her thumb gently across his cheek bone, Faithe's look of concern only deepened.  
  
She felt her stomach drop when he said 'yes,' but a look of understanding crossed her face. However, as he continued speaking, she couldn't help the flutter she felt in her stomach. The feel of his hand on the back of her neck sent a chill down her body. Had she been standing at that moment, she most likely would have fallen her knees felt so weak. Not a bad weak though.  
  
"She didn't deserve you.' Whispering, she opened her eyes and looked at him, searching his face. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, "I'm not saying I do because I think you deserve the best this world has to offer, but if she just let you go..." Her voice trailing off, she diverted her eyes to his shoulder, feeling her face turn slightly pink.  
  
Though she had never experienced anything of the sort, she had a pretty good idea how he felt. She remembered the look on her brother's face, how he had been so hurt and pained. The only major difference between Orlando's situation and Jake's was that Jake had landed a child. Still, she hated seeing Orlando in so much pain. Jake had moved on from everything, but everything was still fresh in his mind...in his heart.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to go through that Orlando. You didn't deserve it."  
  
Faithe's little speech brought a blush to the man's cheeks, and he shook his head. If there was anyone in the world that was so worthy, it certainly wasn't him. He had his faults too, more than he'd care to have, and he certainly didn't regard himself all too highly. If anything, the man underrated himself.  
  
The way Faithe spoke gave Orlando the idea that she saw him as infallible, and, that wasn't exactly true, especially not in his own mind. The end of the relationship hadn't been completely Demeter's fault, yet, it wasn't completely his either. After they had slept together, he had felt differently about it than her, and, not accustomed to having differing feelings, whatever had held them together had vanished into thin air.  
  
Of course, he didn't know quite how to convey that to Faithe without making her feel uncomfortable, or to convey something so intense in a language as simple as words.  
  
"Don't be sorry, Faithe," he whispered, stroking her hair as he spoke, "I'm not. Everything happened for a reason, and, for as much hurt as the end brought, there was twice as much elation while it lasted. Our youth and foolishness just got the best of us... We weren't ready for it, and we paid the consequences."  
  
There, that was a nice, happy little conclusion. Orlando was quite proud of himself for being able to speak so calmly about something so painful, and, now that Faithe knew, he could move on.  
  
"So," he said, no longer whispering, "you said you were hungry."  
  
His eyes had returned to their typical brilliant blue and the sorrow in them had vanished.  
  
"What would you like me to fix for you?" he asked with a grin. "I'm quite a chef..."  
  
Gah...I love it when he blushes. He looks so adorable...so innocent. So perfect. Shaking her head to herself, a small smile played on her lips. Nobody was perfect, that was for sure. Just as all little girls had done when they were little, Faithe had imagined the picture of her Prince Charming, her Ken. Never would she have thought it possible for him to really exist, but here he was. Here she was, sitting in his lap and feeling nothing but adoration for the man.  
  
Biting her lip at the thought of food, she shrugged modestly. "I don't want to put you through any trouble. Something light though, that's for sure. I really have no desire to see it again once it goes down my throat, and I'm sure you wouldn't be too thrilled at the prospect of it either." Grinning, she slid across his lap to sit next to him. Resting her head on his collarbone, her hand drifted up and rested on his chest. "You're too wonderful to possibly exist."  
  
As she slithered off of his lap and, instead, leaned against his chest, Orlando smiled. Blushing again at her comment, he shook his head.  
  
Mock-yawning, he laid his arm around the back of the sofa, just barely letting his hand drape over her bare shoulder as he leaned into her a little.  
  
"Faithe," he said, rolling his eyes a little as he looked at her, "You're not putting me through any trouble. Besides, it's my fault you missed breakfast."  
  
Slowly, and rather reluctantly, he moved her hand off of his chest, kissing it gently before returning it to her. Tapping his fingers upon her shoulder, he eased himself off the couch and made his way over to the pathetic excuse for a kitchen, which consisted of a small refrigerator, a counter, and a tiny two-burner stove.  
  
"You like French toast?" he called back to her as he began to mix the eggs and milk together in a glass bowl.  
  
A contented sigh escaped her as he draped his arm around her, laughing silently at the corny-ness of the yawning move. A whiny groan escaped her mouth as he slowly wiggled out from under her, poking out her bottom lip, she made her lip quiver. Turning her big brown eyes on him, she gave him a look that said You're leaving me? Smiling as he stood, she watched him walk into the kitchen. Standing up, she followed him into the kitchen.  
  
"You'd better hope I say yes, or you would have just wasted milk and eggs." Grinning, she winked at him to show that she was kidding. "French toast would be mahvelous, my dear. As long as there's no butter or syrup on it." Smiling, she picked up the cinnamon bottle, turning it in her hand. Running her fingertips along the wood, a small smirk crossed her face.  
  
Pouring a small amount of the dusty, brown powder, Faithe looked up at him while he stirred the contents of the bowl together. A mischievous glint in her eyes, she reached up and dotted cinnamon on his nose, the left side of her lips turning up into a smile.  
  
Feeling the soft powder upon his nose, Orlando turned to Faithe, raising his eyebrows as he placed his hands upon his hips. She was just too cute.  
  
Stopping stirring the batter, he pulled the spoon out of the bowl and flicked it at Faithe with a grin, spattering a bit of batter on her cheek.  
  
He pointed at the cinnamon on his nose.  
  
"You'd better clean this off," he said, leaning towards her with an undeniably impish smirk upon his lips.  
  
Chuckling as he put his hands on his hips, her laughing stopping short as he flung batter all over her. Her jaw dropping to the ground, Faithe let out a rather loud gasp, a smile playing at her lips. Closing her mouth in a playful scowl, Faithe furrowed her eyebrows, amusement in her eyes.  
  
I hope he didn't have his heart set on breakfast this morning. Reaching into the gooey batter, she grabbed a handful of it. Throwing it on his outstretched face, she made a special move to rub some of it on his nose. Laughing, she pointed at him, "There! I got it off!" Giggling uncontrollably, she took a few steps back, standing outside the doorway. Should she need to, Faithe was prepared to take off to the bathroom and lock herself in.  
  
An incredulous gasp escaped Orlando's lips as he felt the gooey batter splash onto his face. The poor man had been half-hoping Faithe would lick the batter off his nose, but, then again, this wasn't so bad. Grinning, he wiped a hand down the side of his face, making a mental note to wash the batter out of his stubble before going to class later on.  
  
Shaking his head at her, he took a deep breath... and a few steps towards her, losing the grin on his face and, instead, replacing it with a deceiving smile.  
  
"You're adorable," he whispered, letting his brilliant blue eyes stare mesmerizingly deep into her dark ones. Slowly reaching up his hand, as to not draw attention to it, he gently ran his fingertips through her hair. Once the deed had been completely, he grinned again and squeezed the rest of the goo from his hand into her hair.  
  
Hearing him thunder into the room, a wide grin spread over Faithe's face, covering the look of innocence that she had held in her eyes earlier. Shrieking as he tackled her onto the bed, her nose wrinkled at the messy liquid that now covered the two, and the bed. Looking up at him, she started giggling uncontrollably, reaching up and brushing away a piece of egg that was beginning to drip into his eye.  
  
"You're such a mess!" Talk about playing Captain Obvious. Her giggling dying down, Faithe stared up at him, a smile of adoration and affection on her face. He's too perfect. He looks so adorable covered in...er...milk and eggs. Shaking her head, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "I told you I would be all right. It was just a matter of time passing."  
  
Matching her grin with one of his own, Orlando just looked down at Faithe for a moment. His body was half over hers, yet his arms were still rigid, suspending him above her. Dark, unruly locks, covered with French toast batter, hung over his forehead, dripping it over his face, and, occasionally, onto Faithe's face. As her hand reached up and altered the course of one such piece of egg, his eye twitched shut for an instant.  
  
"Yes, I am," he replied with a broad, boyish grin, "And it's all your fault!"  
  
Laughing for a moment, then returning to just grinning, Orlando's gaze caught Faithe's again, and, this time, couldn't find the power to look away. Lost in her eyes, his grin melted to a soft smile as his elbows bent just enough to lower his lips to hers for a moment. For a moment, his chest rested atop of hers, not so that his entire weight was upon her though; then he pulled back, slowly rolling off to her left, his elbows bending entirely to accommodate such a maneuver.  
  
"Good, I'm glad you're alright."  
  
Propping himself up on his elbows, a smile permeated his face once more as his eyes flitted amusedly around the ransacked room.  
  
"So, is this all a guy has to do to get you in his bed?" Orlando joked, "Try to make you breakfast?"  
  
Gasping dramatically, Faithe covered her mouth, her brown eyes widening in a look of shocked innocence that clearly said I'm guilty. "My fault? I know nothing of what you speak!" Blowing a raspberry out of her mouth, she returned the warm smile to Orlando. Returning his kiss, she groaned slightly as he rolled off, the sudden weight of his body taking her off guard.  
  
Turning her head to face him as he propped himself up, the gasp that followed his last comment wasn't fake. Slapping him lightly on his shoulder, Faithe sat up straight. "I cannot believe you would say something like that to me!" There was barely a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but her comment was real. "I've never even so much as kissed a guy offstage until now!"  
  
Raising her left eyebrow, she bit her bottom lip. "But I'm sure you didn't need to know that." Feeling her face turn a light shade of pink, she dropped her eyes to the mess on the bed. Offering him a weak smile, she looked up at him slowly, "Good thing you're a wizard. Otherwise you might not have too much fun cleaning this up."  
  
As Faithe gasped disbelievingly, Orlando couldn't help the broad, boyish grin from taking over his face as a stream of chuckles poured from his mouth. After shooting her a mock-hurt look as her hand smacked his shoulder, he just shrugged, finding her incredulity, like most things about her, adorable.  
  
The next bit that came out of her mouth, however, caught him slightly off guard. It wasn't that he had thought Faithe to be a licentious girl, or anything of the sort, but he definitely couldn't believe that he was her first real kiss. Blushing a bit, his cheeks matching the color of hers quite nicely, the boyish grin died down to a sheepish smile. Just as there was something humbling about that, there was also something shameful in a sense. Thinking back to the previous night, he gnawed slightly on his tongue, feeling bad that he hadn't tried to make her first kiss a little nicer to remember.  
  
As what he wanted to convey had pretty much been accurately depicted through body language, Orlando chose not to verbally comment. Instead, his Orlando-y smile returned to his face and his hand reached up, and took Faithe's hand in it.  
  
"Good thing indeed," he agreed, "Or else, [I]you'd[/I] have quite the mess to clean up."  
  
Seeing him blush, her cheeks grew an even deeper shade of red. Covering her eyes, she shook her head, an embarrassed smile on her face. I cannot believe I just told him that. Feeling extremely stupid, she stuck her tongue out at him for his last comment.  
  
"I don't think so. You made the mess! I had not gotte anything on your bed, thank you. You were the one, my dear, who came jumping onto the bed like Tarzan." Winking, she squeezed his hand gently. Standing up on the bed, she walked over to the edge and hopped off, almost losing her balance. Making her way to the bathroom, she grabbed a washrag, trying to make an attempt at cleaning up. "You punk! You got me all nasty!"  
  
Smirking at Faithe's display of mortification, Orlando just shook his head at her little tongue gesture.  
  
"Oh, really?" he retorted with a grin, "And, exactly who was it that poured the entire contents of that bowl all over me? Because, unless my logic is flawed, I do believe that's the reason why I'm covered in French toast batter, ma cherie."  
  
Rolling his eyes as she hopped off the bed, Orlando rolled over onto his back, twisting his body so that his head hung off the edge of the bed, looking upside-down at her as she began wiping the batter off of herself.  
  
"Punk?" he repeated, "What a word for someone of your intellect. And, for your information, Faithe, you were the one whose eyes were begging for me to jump on you."  
  
Punctuating the statement with a wink, he procured his wand from the back pocket of his jeans and "swish-and-flick"ed it, murmuring a spell whose cleaning effect was immediately evident. His face was spotless, and the bedding was clean and batter-free.  
  
"So, what time is it?" he asked randomly, curious as to how much more time he had with her before second period began.  
  
Faithe turned and smiled at him, blowing a raspberry at him. Slapping herself in the forehead, she walked over to the edge of the bed. Sweetie, you're a witch. Poking her bottom lip out, she looked at him with her brown eyes holding a pleading look. "Do me, do me!" Wincing slightly, she smirked at how that came out.  
  
"Will you please clean me off?" Scratching her head, she laughed lightly at how strange it sounded, even to her own ears. "I'm just going to stop talking now." Well, now that you have made a complete moron of yourself, my dear...  
  
"I wouldn't say much about my 'intellect.' More about my lack of." Shaking her head, she plopped onto the bed, laying her head on his stomach as she laid facing his dangling head. "Second period starts in about fifteen minutes."  
  
Sighing in response to her raspberry, Orlando's brilliant blue eyes rolled themselves amusedly, which looked quite peculiar, as his head was upside- down. A loud, amused chuckle rang out as Faithe begged him to "do her", and then to clean her off. It was strange how such simple, clean phrases had such dirty connotations. especially in the man's mind. He had been through so much as a result of such suggested actions, and yet could still laugh at a harmless joke like that.  
  
Of course, although he did laugh, and did find it comical, there was a part of him that was slightly disturbed by it. Since he, as opposed to Demeter, had been the one who had really pushed for them to "seize the moment", he felt a slight pang of guilt as the thought of doing the same with Faithe crossed his mind, not only because of the effect on his and Dem's relationship, but also because the thought of corrupting someone so pure and innocent crossing his mind repulsed him in a sense.  
  
Pointing his wand at her, he repeated the spell, and, instantaneously, Faithe was clean. Good thing, too, he thought as she lay her head down upon his stomach. Reaching up an arm, he draped it across her stomach, or, at least, as far as he could reach thataway. Regardless, he took extra care to make sure his arm landed between her chest and her hips.  
  
Moving ever so slightly, he lifted his head back onto the bed, but kept it down on the bed, not really making much of an effort to look at her while he spoke.  
  
"You are too intelligent, 'ma Foi'," Orlando replied, casually slipping in a little French nickname, "One of the most brilliant people I've ever met." 


	4. Talented Passion

Today was young into the morning, but the sky was overcast with heavy, dark clouds. Though it wasn't raining, the sky was threatening a downpour. A steady, cool breeze was blowing through the trees, causing the students at Rosencrantz to shiver slightly as they walked through their day.  
  
Punctuality was a trait that Faithe regarded highly, and very rarely was she ever late for anything. This morning she had been awaken by the soft hooting of her mother's brown Tawny owl, Rooney. Faithe had always thought her parents insane for naming their owls after famous muggle thespians - Rooney being named after Mickey Rooney. The second she had seen the animated bird with a letter tied to her leg, she groaned and rolled over.  
  
Her parents and her had continued the same argument for the past month, ever since her last year at Rosencrantz began. If she had to explain to her parents one more time why she had a desire and a passion to go into astronomy, as opposed to theater, she was going to scream. Theater was fine for her parents, Jake, and the rest of her family, but it wasn't for Faithe. Sure, she had the talent. She had a beautiful, strong voice, and had taken every type of dance offered since she was four. Faithe had been told time and time again that she had an amazing stage presence, and the audiences loved her. However, talent without passion was nothing. Certainly nothing to spend the rest of her life doing.  
  
Sighing, she finally turned over at Rooney's incessant pecking on her arm. Untying the letter, she opened the drawer to her nightstand and pulled out a small owl treat. Feeding it Rooney, she sat up in bed, a foreboding expression in her face. Setting it down, she got dressed in her khaki's and Athena shirt. After brushed her hair and teeth, she slipped on her shoes and headed out, the letter in her pocket.  
  
Checking her watch, she had twenty minutes before class started. Sitting down on a bench in the courtyard, she looked above her as she tore the envelope open. Feeling no immediate threat of rain, her dark eyes swept through the letter. Her jaw clenching at the words written on the page, Faithe stared at the ground. Forgetting class, she grabbed her bag and headed off for the comfort of solitude that could only be found in her star gazing spot.  
  
*****  
  
Getting completely lost in herself, Faithe finally checked her watch. Class had started a good half hour ago. Silently reprimanding herself, she stood up and tucked the letter in her bag. Walking towards the school with a tear streaked face and red eyes, she wiped her cheeks with her hands. As she reached the building the Astronomy class was located in, a few small drops off water had begun to fall, but the rain was still holding off. With her Astronomy book in her hand, she walked into the ancient building.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she ran the palms of her hands over her cheeks to make sure there were no signs of her crying, though her eyes were still red. Checking her watch, she wanted to kill herself - there was fifteen minutes left of class. Shaking her head, she opened the door and walked in, avoiding Orlando's eye.  
  
Walking by him rather quickly, she sat her bag down pretty harshly on the ground and sat down in her desk. Her jaw still clenched, she kept one arm on top of her book, running her index finger along the top of the cover. Keeping her eyes on the cover, Faithe couldn't bring herself to look towards Orlando.  
  
"And, when all hope was lost to the beautiful Andromeda, the girl's eyes caught sight of a distant figure in the sky: Perseus, the son of Zeus and Danae, who was returning from slaying Medusa. He saved the girl, and, for his bravery, Cepheus awarded him Andromeda's hand in marriage."  
  
It was one evident that this was one his most favorite of the constellation stories by the way Orlando's face lit up as he recounted the tale of the chained maiden.  
  
"When the couple died, they were honored with places in the sky. Cetus, the sea-monster, was there waiting for them and forever chases Andromeda around the sky, but Perseus continues to guard her well."  
  
In spite of his enthusiasm and captivation by the story, the class still didn't seem to be affected in the slightest; this was reflected by their vacant stares.  
  
Sighing to himself, the man's eyes casually flitted to the empty window seat to his left, wishing that Faithe was there. She would appreciate the story. Flitting his eyes towards the clock, he noted that there was only fifteen minutes of class left. Where was she? Just as the man was about to begin truly worrying about the young woman, she entered.  
  
Although she tried, her evasion of his gaze couldn't prevent his eyes from following her as she marched through the door and sat down. She radiated an air of frustration and such-something Orlando had never associated in the slightest with her. Had there not been seventeen other people in the room, he would have run over and taken the girl in his arms. Looking around, he decided that it would most certainly be best if the seventeen other people weren't there.  
  
"Alright," he said quickly, clearing his throat, "For tomorrow, please research the constellation of your choice and write-up its myth of origin. At least three feet, please. Because this is such a big project, you're dismissed as of now to get a head start."  
  
Waiting just long enough for the last student to run out of the room, Orlando nearly bolted for Faithe. Kneeling by the girl's desk, he wrapped an arm around her back and, drawing her face into his shoulder gently, kissed the top of her head softly.  
  
"Talk to me," he said quietly, voice supersaturated ((I am such a chemistry geek)) with concern.  
  
Faithe had jotted down the assignment quickly, wanting to make a quick exit from the room. Just as she had closed her notebook, Orlando was by her side. She had been keeping her emotions down since she had entered the classroom, but the second she felt his arm around her, she closed her eyes. Though the position was rather awkward, Faithe buried her face in his shoulder. Trying her hardest to keep her feelings inside of her, her tears betrayed her and began cascading down her face.  
  
She felt foolish for bawling her eyes out in front of him, but at the same time, his being there brought her so much comfort. Pulling back from him, she shook her head slightly, burying her face in her hands. Everything would seem to childish to him. It didn't matter. Faithe was upset with herself for getting this hysterical about the matter.  
  
Forcing herself to stop crying, she took a few deep breaths before finally looking at him. "It's not important." The words seemed silly, even to her. People did not bawl their eyes out for matters of unimportance. "What did I miss?" Not like it mattered. Everything she had spent doing all these years had amounted to nothing of importance.  
  
Her front wasn't working, and that was something Faithe was not used to happening. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she spoke, so she bit it lightly to keep it from moving. Breaking her eye contact with him, she stared at the ground silently.  
  
As she followed his lead, burying her face in his shoulder, and he felt warm tears begin to moisten his shirtsleeve, Orlando held the girl tighter- closer to himself. Stroking her hair calmingly, his other arm, the one wrapped around her back, rose and fell with each heaving breath the girl took in an effort to clam herself. He let up, watching with utmost concern as she lifted her tear-stained face towards him and blew off whatever was bothering her as though it was nothing.  
  
She was trying to be strong and, although he admired that about her, he didn't think that this particular thing was something she should have to cloak with a façade, especially not from him. Watching her note the fact that her pretense didn't fool him, he looked on as her eyes left his and started at the ground, as though there was something intriguing there.  
  
Running his hand down her cheek, he took her face in his hand and gently raised it back up to his own. Brilliant blue eyes gazed into hers for a moment, sharing with her the feeling that words couldn't begin to portray.  
  
"You missed my rendition of the chained maiden's myth, which put the rest of your classmates to sleep," he replied with a slightly joking undertone to his voice. "And that assignment," he added, "isn't something you should waste your time on, Faithe. I only assigned it to get the rest of the class out of here.  
  
"Alright, I answered your question. It's your turn, now."  
  
Orlando's characteristic boyish grin flashed on his face for an instant before being replaced by a look of unmistakably sincere concern.  
  
"What's wrong, Faithe? Don't tell me that you're fine or that it's not important. You've never been less than three minutes early to every class this year, and, today, you barely made the last fifteen minutes.  
  
"Your eyes are flooded, and your face is streaked with tears."  
  
His voice quieted itself, as though it was somehow painful for him to see her in such a state.  
  
"Please," he entreated, letting his hand slide down her neck and along her arm, eventually ending up holding her hand, "tell me what's wrong. so I can make it right."  
  
Lively green eyes jumped over to the clock. Class would've been over by now. Thank Goodness. She turned off the stereo, which had been playing fast- paced dance music, and sat down to stretch. For the simple reason that Astronomy didn't seem at all interesting, she had skipped class--legally. Since early this morning, Ivy had been working on a new dance routine for the cheerleaders, supposedly. Heh. Instead, she slept in and hanged out with a few friends. Though, to her credit, she had worked on dance--a little bit.  
  
She was clad in a pair of short, white, cotton shorts with the waistband rolled up to make them even shorter and a Discordia blue tank top. She grabbed a black sweatshirt that zipped up the front and slid it on. All of these articles of clothing were name-brand, mind you. Physical appearances were very important to Ivy. After all, wasn't that the first thing people see when they meet you?  
  
Ivy snatched up her excuse note from Ms. Mullett explaining her absence and pocketed it. Saucony Cheer shoes padded their way out of the empty recreation room as Ivy strolled towards the Astronomy class. Like always, she'd pick up the work, copy off one of the Athena cheerleaders (who really shouldn't have been on the squad anyway) and turn it in when she felt like it. Ivy had always done that. And she had never had a problem.  
  
Approaching the classroom, she stopped to pick up a ring that someone had dropped on the floor.  
  
quote:  
"Please," he entreated, letting his hand slide down her neck and along her arm, eventually ending up holding her hand, "tell me what's wrong. so I can make it right."  
  
  
An eyebrow quirked as she listened. Was this some sort of Iris play practice? Soap-opera auditions? No, no...that was the voice of the teacher. What?! Rolling her eyes, she stood up back leisurely and crept to the doorway, pausing there silently. She stayed out of the range of vision, listening.  
  
Ah, the wonderful tale of Andromeda and Perseus. That story had always intrigued her, and the images of Medusa that had filled her head when she was younger had once given her nightmares. When she had started to get older and mature, she always imagined herself as the heroin being rescued by her dream prince. However, life was not a stage, and fairy tales did not come true.  
  
She closed her eyes at the feel of his hand on her face, feeling the warm familiarity of his hand enclosing around her own. As she found herself looking into his eyes once more, hot tears stung her eyes. For the first time in her life, Faithe wasn't pulling away and drawing her emotions up inside of her. Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand before standing up. Pacing back and forth, she crossed her arms over her chest and kept her gaze on the floor.  
  
"There isn't anything you can do Orlando," speaking softly, Faithe's voice came out shaky as she stopped pacing. Staring at him, she bit her bottom lip. "I got a letter from my parents this morning." Taking a deep breath, she sat on top of one of the desks, her gaze staring hypnotically at the ground once more. "They have given me three days to give them word about what I'm doing after school; whether I'm going into theater, or I'm going where I want to and follow through with Astronomy. They pretty much told me that if I don't stay with theater, they'll pretty much disown me. Financially I will have nothing, and, let's face it, I can't do that right out of school. I don't have much choice." Sighing, she stood up and walked to the window, placing both hands on the windowsill.  
  
"I know there are worse problems in the world, but..." Faithe's voice trailed off quietly as she stared up at the sky. "Everything I have been working for these last seven years has accounted for nothing. It means nothing to them, it never has and it certainly never will." Lowering her head, she stared at the ground below her, watching students walking through the courtyard laughing and smiling. "I was stupid for dwelling on a dream I knew deep down could never happen."  
  
Still kneeling next to Faithe's desk, Orlando watched in silence as she began pacing, eyes following her as she crossed back and forth across the room. Being told there wasn't anything he could do, the man quickly replied "yeah, there is", although his idealism soon faded when she continued; each word was like another piece of salt being rubbed in an open wound.  
  
Inquisitively inclining his head, he remained silent, listening intently as she kept talking, explaining the dire predicament to him, a predicament that stuck a little too close to home for Orlando. His parents, as well, hadn't exactly been gung-ho about his own career choice. After Rosencrantz, he had gone off to a small two-year astronomy academy in Maine on his own accord, and, from there, returned to Rosencrantz and was hired. Of course, it was different for him. He had always been on his own, but Faithe hadn't had that luxury. if one could call it that.  
  
Rising from his place on the ground, he slowly wandered over to where Faithe stood and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. His head peeked over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze down towards the bustling crowd below; the horde of chattering students thronged over the school grounds like a swarm of bees.  
  
"Hey, now," he said quietly, turning her around in his arms so they faced each other. "Dwelling on a dream is the only thing that'll make it come true. If you just give up on it, there's no chance of making it reality.  
  
"And, yeah, there are worse problems in the world," he added, looking downward at the girl with a small smile crossing his lips, "But, honestly, Faithe, if you had come in here crying about the starving children in India or the destruction of the Amazon rainforest." The man trailed off into a quiet laugh and shook his head.  
  
A moment of silence ensued then; he didn't know what to say. Maybe she was right, maybe there wasn't anything he could do. Still, he closed his eyes and tried to think of something- anything- that could ease her pain just a little bit. Gnawing on his tongue, several ideas popped into his head, the most outrageous being marriage. He could support her; he'd ask her to marry him right then and there. [I]Yeah, right.[/I] Not only was it completely impractical-he barely made enough money to support himself-- but Orlando didn't exactly want something that serious or intense in a relationship. at least not at the moment. Not to mention the fact that, if it sounded that crazy in his head, it would be more than laughable in reality.  
  
"I don't know what to tell you, Faithe," the man confessed quietly. His voice had an apologetic air to it, as though he was apologizing for being a failure. "You've got three days though, right? We'll think of something, I promise."  
  
Faithe shook her head, closing her eyes to prevent the threatening tears from betraying her. Resting her hands on his chest when he turned her around, her dark brown eyes met his brilliant blue eyes. He looked so strong and in control, and Faithe only wished that he were in control of this. Things would not be so messed up if he were.  
  
"Three days or three hundred, it doesn't matter. I don't have much of a choice." Reaching up, she laid her hand gently on his cheek, fighting back the urge to bawl her eyes out again. He didn't deserve all this emotion; he hadn't asked for it, nor did he need it. The thought of being at the other end of the country from her was probably what was upsetting her the most at this moment. Had she been thinking rationally, she was sure that she could easily come up with a way to overcome this. "The least I can do is audition in the Manhattan Theater, after begging and pleading with my parents. Texas is just way too far from you."  
  
Forcing a small smile, she raised her eyebrow slightly, "I brake for starving children in India." Sliding her hand down his cheek, she rested her hand back on his chest. Sighing, the forced smile disappeared. "I will do that assignment. It might look strange if I am the only person to not do it, and end up with the highest grade in the class." Winking, the left side of her mouth crooked up ever so slightly for a short moment. "Besides, I need it to take my mind off everything."  
  
Never taking his eyes off hers, the look of concern and perseverance failed to leave the man's face as he listened to her. She was obviously still upset, and, although she was trying to downplay just how upset she was, Orlando could see that the tears in her eyes were on the brink of falling. Tightening his arms around her, he pulled her closer to him for a moment and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before lifting her up onto the window seat, which was the perfect height off the floor to make their eyes level with each other's. ((Erm. did that make sense? You know what I was going for, right?))  
  
Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, he backed up and unwrapped his arms from around her, instead taking her hands in his own and resting them on her lap. Tilting his head to the side, he rubbed her hand with his fingers.  
  
"Three days or three hundred days," he repeated, "you do have a choice. Don't let them push you into something you won't be happy doing. Talent is worthless without a passion just as passion is near worthless without talent. Even though you're a brilliant actress, Faithe, it's not going to matter."  
  
Orlando's voice still carried its characteristic sincerity, but now the man was speaking from the heart, truly impassioned, and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.  
  
"You know why not? Because everyday you're going to get out of bed, and have to drag yourself down to the theater, all the while, looking up at the sun and wondering what phase the solar flare cycle is on, and, every night you're going to come home to your mansion and, while you're walking up the steps to your front door, the glimmer of the Betelgeuse ((that's the alpha star in Orion, right?)) is going to catch the corner of your eye, and you're just going to stand there all night, mesmerized, wondering why you let them make you give up what you love."  
  
Her eyes never left his as a look of doubtful longing crossed her eyes. She wished that what he said could be true - that she could simply not allow herself to be pushed into what her parents wanted her to do, but it wasn't that simple. Shaking her head, her eyes fell to her lap, gazing at her hands in his. "It just isn't that simple, Orlando. They pretty much said that if I choose to go my own way, that letter would be the last that they would recommend me sending. Also, not to bother going home to get my stuff, because the only thing that would be waiting for me would be a very strong unwelcome."  
  
Why are things happening like this? Pondering to herself, Faithe's whole countenance differed greatly from what it normally was. The smile that was normally held in her eyes was replaced with worry and dread. "I've never been allowed to work outside of the theater, and we never really got paid for that. So, I have next to no money. My possessions consist of what I have with me at school. If I don't follow what my parents want, I'm pretty much out on the street. I don't have a choice."  
  
A look of resignation was on her face, an expression she had seldom ever felt. I don't know what to do. So many conflicts played inside her head, filling her mind with a thousand 'what if' questions.  
  
The man saw the look of resignation- of defeat- cross her face, contorting it into a sort of submission, and sighed. He didn't appreciate how stubborn and overbearing her parents were being; they were almost mirror images of his own parents. Of course, there was one subtle difference: in Orlando's mind, at least, he had deserved what he had received. Every beating, every spiteful remark, and every disgusted glare was completely earned. He had been strong enough to deal with it, though. But Faithe.  
  
She didn't deserve this pain, nor the agony that her parents' austerity had sparked. The unused bitter side of his personality was beginning to be utilized as he wondered what sort of people could ever cause such an angel to feel as disconsolate as the young woman felt.  
  
"But, Faithe," Orlando whispered, bending his knees so that he could look back up at her face, "It is that simple. You know I'm right about this; the way your eyes keep staring at your lap proves that. You can't go off and live your life according to what your parents want you to do or what they want you to be because- it's this simple- that's not who you are."  
  
He paused for a moment, and then continued.  
  
"You do have a choice, Faithe. What do you want to do with Astronomy?" he inquired, "Whatever you want, you can do it. You're a brilliant girl. You're smart, beautiful, motivated, passionate." he trailed off there, knowing full well that he could go on for hours complimenting her. "And I'm sure you'll graduate at the top of your class from Rosencrantz. There isn't a place out in the world that wouldn't hire you, Faithe. You can get a job, make some money, and live out your dreams.  
  
"Yeah, it'll take awhile, but while you're in limbo, you could."  
  
[I]'You could stay with me'[/I] He finished the sentence in his head, knowing full well that it didn't sound right.  
  
"You could go on with the acting thing, just for awhile," he concluded, although there was something in his voice that insinuated that he wasn't truly speaking his mind.  
  
Shaking her head softly, Faithe looked him in the eyes. Life just isn't fair anymore. I don't have a choice. This was her fault; she just didn't live up to her parents' expectations. She wasn't good enough for them, and she never would be. All she had ever tried to do was please them. Everything that she did, every A that she got, was all because she had tried to make them proud of her, of what she could accomplish.  
  
It meant nothing though. The only thing that mattered was the standing ovations. It didn't matter if she was sprained, as long as she could perform. If her voice went out, she had better be able to sing on stage. Her parents had spotlights for brains, and a stage for a heart.  
  
"It won't work that way Orlando. My parents have a contract made up, just like they did with Jake. The only difference is, he wanted to do the theater thing. It's unbreakable, and by the time it would run out, it would be too late to do anything with Astronomy. There's no point in trying, they have me hooked, and they know it." Keeping her eyes on his, her eyes started watering again. Cursing her emotions, she took a deep breath.  
  
Noticing the way he said his last comment, she raised her eyebrow slightly. "What were you going to say?"  
  
Staring into her eyes, the man could see how torn she was. She was standing at a fork in the road. To the left lay a path overgrown with weeds and blocked by numerous fallen trees, but past all that, perhaps a mile down the road, was heaven, accompanied by an endless starry sky. To the right was a perfect cobblestone path, leading to a stage in the middle of a murky swamp of nothingness. 'Choose the easy road to nowhere, or the hard road to where you want to be.'  
  
Sighing aloud, he straightened his knees, resuming his full height of 6'1". Still holding her hands in his, he looked out over the sea of students, into the clouds. His mind was clouded, just as the sky was at that moment. Should he tell her what he was going to say? Or should he let it slide?  
  
Glancing at Faithe out of the corner of his eye, he gnawed on his tongue. Her mind was made up; she had given up, surrendered without a fight. ((Hmm. is she French? lol)) Not that he blamed her, of course. Going against the wishes of one's parents with absolutely nothing helping you wasn't exactly the brightest idea. She had nothing without them, and had chosen to surrender only to survive. 'twas better to be a prisoner of war than to be dead, he supposed. Then again, martyrs were honorable, in their own morbid sense.  
  
"I was going to say that, if you wanted, you could stay with me for awhile. while you were in the limbo part of the plan, at least," he answered at last, keeping his eyes looking out the window, but still holding her hands in his own.  
  
Not sure she heard him right, Faithe's left eyebrow raised slightly. Reaching up after a few moments' silence, she gently placed her fingers on his chin and turned his face towards her. "I couldn't do that to you Orlando. This isn't your mess to deal with, and I know you can't afford it. It's your first year teaching, and I know there is no way you could possibly be making enough to support more than yourself."  
  
Sliding her hand from underneath his chin to his shoulder, that look of adoration that always seemed to reflect from her dark eyes around him washed over her. He was too wonderful to possibly exist. Any moment now, Faithe was waiting to wake up from this dream.  
  
Opening her mouth to say something else, she was quickly silenced by a loud clap of thunder. Jumping practically into him out of startlement, she winced slightly as she caught sight of a massive lightning bolt. A small groan escaped her mouth as she buried her face in his chest. As another thunder roll clapped loudly overhead, the sound of the downpour filled the silence in the room.  
  
"As much as I love the rain and storms, I am terrified of lightning."  
  
Seeing that look of pure adoration radiating from Faithe's eyes as she looked at him, Orlando could feel himself blush and tried to cover that fact with a grin. Opening his mouth to object, though, he was cut off by the booming thunder as well.  
  
As she jumped into him, he instinctively pulled her closer towards him, holding her tightly. Smiling as she buried her face in his chest, his hand wound itself around and gently stroked her hair.  
  
"Don't be," he whispered, still holding her against him.  
  
"And don't talk about you 'doing that to me' as if it's a bad thing," he added quietly, referring to her remark about moving in with him. "You could never possibly be a burden, Faithe. This may not be my mess to deal with, but it involves you, so I'm making it my mess to deal with. You didn't ask for this either, Faithe; it's not your fault.  
  
"And yeah, you're right, galleons aren't exactly falling out of my pockets, but I'm sure we could manage, Faithe," he said, completely believing his idealistic vision of the world.  
  
"I'm not trying to push you into it, though. I'm just saying that, if you want to, we could make it work. somehow."  
  
Snuggling her head into his chest, she closed her eyes and felt her tense body relax. Hugging him tightly, she listened to the sound of melodious voice, feeling the vibration of his speaking against her cheek.  
  
I wish life could be that perfect. Now she knew he was a dream. Nobody had ever taken it upon themselves to be so compassionate towards her. As much as she and Jake had always supported each other, he had never really stepped into any of the discrepancies between her and their parents. She couldn't let Orlando get involved in her problems. He didn't deserve it, and she cared about him too much to cast that burden on him.  
  
"Orlando, you are too perfect." Tilting her head upwards, her eyes held that natural look of affection and adoration that had only been cast on him.  
  
vy raised an eyebrow, snickering silently. Apparently, this was just some brat whining about her 'oh-so-horrible' problems and nothing more. And the teacher, being oh-so-understanding. Ugh. Would somebody please gag her with a spoon?!  
  
Still, something here wasn't right. Since when did students call the teachers by their first names? She leaned a little bit closer, listening. There was something about suffering that was always entertaining--which explained who so-called 'reality' television shows were so popular.  
  
Like a little kid listening in on plans for his or her birthday party, Ivy inched closer. As she listened to Orlando's descriptions of Faithe's future, with astronomy terms included, she had to fight laughter. It was obvious he was a former Athena. What a loser. Can you say 'geek?' Shaking her head mentally, she narrowed her eyes in thought.  
  
Ivy bent down and peeked just inside the door, looking through a row of desks that were conveniently positioned to hide her from view. A wicked smile grew on her face as she watched this desperate, foolish broad. She raised her other eyebrow. They were holding hands....what?! Ooh, the tales that someone could create out of this...  
  
However, maybe a tale wouldn't be needed. Their actions definitely weren't teacher to student at this point. And now the teacher was inviting her to stay with him! It was like a soap opera, almost, except one that didn't suck rhombus (HARHARHAR) and got better with every minute. Oh, and now she was leaning against him! Ivy blinked disbelievingly, noting the look of absolute rapture in Faithe's eyes.  
  
This was just too, too good to be true.  
  
"Nah," came the reply. Chortling quietly as he looked down at her, Orlando shook his head, still gently fondling her hair with one hand as the other ran up and down her back. There was that look in her eyes again, as if telling him he could do no wrong. But he wasn't as wonderful as she thought he was. "I'm nothing special, Faithe."  
  
Noticing how she had brushed over his offer for the moment being, he wondered whether or not he should revive it. Perhaps, lost in her over admiration of him, she had just forgotten about it. Then again, what if just letting it slip was her way of tactfully declining his offer? Not knowing, the man's curiosity got the better of him.  
  
"I meant it, y'know," he whispered quietly, gazing into her eyes. "If it'll help you at all, even just a little bit, Faithe, the offer still stands- from now until forever."  
  
"You are too sweetie." Not wanting to move, Faithe continued to relax against him. Looking him in the eyes, she nodded. "I know, and trust me, there is nothing I would love more than to take you up on that offer Orlando. I just..." Taking a deep breath, she looked away for a moment. Returning her gaze towards him, she rested her head against his chest again. Closing her eyes, she sighed.  
  
"I don't want to impose on you." The words sounded lame, even to her ears. "It's not fair to you. You've given me so much, and I feel like I haven't given you anything. I don't like that." Looking back up at him, a thoughtful expression crossed her face. "I just wish there was something I could do for you that was even half as meaningful as everything you have done for me."  
  
A feeling of relief washed over Orlando as she spoke and the awkwardness of the moment, at least from his view, passed; she [I]did[/I[ want to stay with him. Then again, [I]was[/I] that a good thing? It meant she didn't think him odd for suggesting it, obviously, but did she want more of a serious relationship than he desired? No, certainly not, his mind answered, just as soon as it had asked. Wait-did [I]he[/I] want more of a serious relationship? Momentarily purging the thought from his mind, he carried on with life in that particular moment.  
  
"Alright, Faithe," he replied, acknowledging her incessant torrent of outlandish reasons why she couldn't stay with him, "but if having you come stay at my place for awhile will help you- if it'll make this situation a little better for you- then the opportunity to do that for you, Faithe, would be a wonderful gift."  
  
Putting a finger to the girl's lips for a short moment, he hinted that she shouldn't say another word against it.  
  
"If it'll work out now, that's fine; if it'll work out later, let me know; and, if it never seems to fit, that's okay, too, Faithe. But, I mean it, the offer'll stand forever."  
  
Bending his neck, he kissed the girl's forehead lightly.  
  
"You said something about auditioning for the Manhattan Theatre," he remarked, randomly changing the subject, "I'd be more than glad to take you down there some night if you'd like to talk to them."  
  
Squeazing his hand affectionately, she offered a small smile. "I know. Thank you." Closing her eyes when he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She loved the feeling of his nearness; the feeing she got when he was near. Smiling at his offer, she nodded.  
  
"Well, I don't know how much of an audition it will be for me to actually become a member of this chain of our theater company. My parents are at their Dallas - Forth Worth location, but everybody in this company knows how Jake and I are." Smiling, she leaned her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug.  
  
Standing in silence for a few moments, she finally looked back up at Orlando. "Thank you for making everything better." Or at least for seeming to make everything better.  
  
Feeling her arms wrap themselves around him and her head gently rub against his chest, a contented smile took its place upon Orlando's face. Enveloping his arms around her, he affectionately rubbed his hands along her back, puling him close to him. Craning his neck around her head, his lips planted a soft kiss on her neck before pulling back and gazing down at her, once more allowing his arms to freely drape around her, yet not hold her as tightly.  
  
"You're welcome," he answered, with a slight sparkle flickering in his eyes. Carefully moving so that the girl's head was no longer on his chest but, most likely, looking at him, a boyish grin tugged at his lips.  
  
"Now," he began, "let me get this straight, you say 'they all' know who you and Jake are, huh? So. does that mean I'm involved with a celebrity?"  
  
Smirking and laughing affably at his own jest, he abruptly flung one arm around Faithe's back and the other under her knees, lifting her up into his arms and playfully spinning her around.  
  
"Do tell me, Miss Cunningham, will you be requiring an escort for the Academy Awards this year?" he asked as a joke , raising an eyebrow and looking into her eyes with a most fixated of glances, still holding her securely in his arms.  
  
A small shiver ran through her as she felt him kiss her neck, a small smile spreading over her mouth. She couldn't prevent the laugh that escaped her at his comment. "Hardly celebrities. Considering the fact that my parents own the theater, and that's the theater my brother pushed me off the stage into the orchestra pit, they know me relatively well." Grinning, she reached behind her head and ran her finger over the small scar on her neck. Shaking her head, a small chuckle escaped her mouth.  
  
Squealing when he picked her up, her arms wrapped around his neck. Giggling as he spun around, she rested her forehead against his cheek, closing her eyes tightly to fade out the colors all blending together. Opening her eyes, she met his mesmerizing gaze that she had come to adore. Raising one of her hands to his cheek, she gently ran her hand down the side of his cheek, a soft smile on her face.  
  
"No, not the Academies." Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I have always liked the dancing aspect of theater. When I was younger, before the accident, I had been conditioning to try out for Julliard. Well, auditioning isn't quite the word I should use; one of their scouts had seen me in one of my parents' productions and recruited me. The whole audition thing was supposed to be a formality." Closing her eyes, a small smile spread over her face as she slipped her hand down to his neck, wrapping her hand around it lightly. "I always dreamed of being apart of the American Ballet Theatre in Broadway, New York, or even the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow, that way I could visit their astronomy conservatories as well as dance."  
  
Lifting her head up, she looked at him and raised her eyebrow slightly to accompany the half smile that spread over her face. "That is the only thing good that came out of all these years of being forced into dance lessons and voice lessons. I really did enjoy dancing, but it's funny how fate works." Shaking her head, she stuck the tip of her tongue out at him, her nose wrinkling slightly as she did so. "Fate introduced you to me, so I have every reason in the world to be thankful."  
  
A contented sigh escaped the man's lips as a complementary smile lit up his face. [I]This was how it's supposed to be[/I],' he though to himself. Her head resting against his shoulder, beautiful eyes staring into his, hand around his neck, and her body cradled in his arms. Though her words were nothing spectacular, the man found himself absolutely captivated by her voice, yearning to know everything about the incredible woman he held in his arms. In fact, he barely comprehended the theatre jargon with which she spoke, but it made not the slightest different.  
  
Feeling her head leave its place upon his shoulder, Orlando's brilliant blue eyes flitted downward to meet her gaze. That impeccably enchanting half-smile had once again graced the man with its presence, prompting his own characteristic grin to appear upon his face. Chuckling at her last corny remark, he rolled his eyes at her, only to hide the warm blush currently rouging his cheeks.  
  
"Fate has its perks," he mused. "Although I don't see how I'm one of them," he added with a grin.  
  
"So, you've pretty much got a spot in Manhattan if you want it. That's good. I'd still like to take you down there sometime, just to get everything worked out, y'know; make sure that it's what you want, or, at least, something you can be a little bit happy doing."  
  
A dreamy expression came over her eyes as she stared at his indelible, brilliant blue eyes with his smile that always made her heart race. Sure that he hadn't heard a word she said, Faithe kissed his cheek lightly. "My brother has a show next weekend. He was wanting me to go up and see him. Would you be interested?"  
  
Running her index finger over his bottom lip lightly, the light side of her mouth crooked up, allowing her dimple to crinkle. Faithe's eyes could not have shown any brighter had Alderman itself been shining in the depths of her eyes as if her pupil were the darkness of the heavens, and the twinkling from the bright star the joy that was evident through her eyes.  
  
"You're more than a perk." She wrinkled her nose as he rolled his eyes, though she couldn't help the wide smile that spread over her face as she noticed the faint blushing. "I know, I know. I'm a corn puff."  
  
As she stared into his eyes, Orlando's eyes met hers, gazing deep inside her. As her lips caressed his cheek, he was sure that the slight blush deepened for a moment. She was, in a word, adorable.  
  
"Interested?" he repeated, having just barely listened to the words she had spoken this time, "As long as I'd be accompanying you, my dear Miss Cunningham, I would be obliged."  
  
As her finger waltzed upon his lips, his lips curled into a smile and his blush deepened for a moment before finally going away. Laughing slightly at her reference to herself as a "corn puff", he kissed her lips gently.  
  
"Perhaps, but you're an adorable corn puff then," he replied with a grin.  
  
Casually his eyes flit towards the Grandfather Clock in the corner- almost time for second period to begin. For him second period was his free period- for prep- but he wasn't sure if she had somewhere to be or not.  
  
"It's almost time for second period begin," he stated, "I don't have a second hour class, so, if you'd like to stay. I wouldn't have a problem. If you have a class, I'm sure I could get you out of it."  
  
"Mmmm...I like cheese puffs." Grinning at her random comment, Faithe tweaked his nose lightly. "Alrighty, I'll send a letter to the hotel I normally stay at and tell them I need one more room. What they may do is give us the Double Penthouse, as opposed to the single Penthouse I normally stay in. When Jake and I used to travel up here together, we would end up in the Double. There are two bedrooms, but in the center is the living room, dining room, kitchen, bar table, etc."  
  
Following his gaze to the clock, she sighed. "For you, I would usually have no problem missing Potions, but we do have a test in there today." Relunctantly, she wiggled down from his arms, sticking her bottom lip out slightly. Pinching his cheeks lightly, she grinned, "Unless of course, you want to take it for me. I'll teach your imaginary class."  
  
Nodding as she spoke about the hotel business, the man couldn't help but notice her bluntness about the fact that them having two separate bedrooms. Indeed, it [I]was[/I] the prudent thing to do, and Orlando didn't exactly feel cheated or bitter about it, but the very fact that she had been so blatant about it brought a small grin to the man's face.  
  
As she reluctantly wriggled out of his grasp, he helped her down, positioning his arms so she almost slid out of them. Grinning back as her fingers touched his cheeks, his hand reached up and entangled their fingers with hers.  
  
"Potions is overrated- there's not enough math involved," the man replied with a roll of his eyes, "I'd take your test, but I'm afraid I wouldn't do too well. Plus, the whole point of you skipping class was so you could be with me, darling."  
  
Faithe tilted her head to the side slightly as she noticed his smile, "What? What was that smile for?" A curious smile spread over her face as her left eyebrow raised slightly.Feeling the warmth of his fingers intwined with hers, Faithe squeezed his hand affectionately.  
  
"If you were to get me out of class, how would you do so?" A slight shiver ran through her spine as he called her 'darling.' She wasn't used to little nicknames of that sort, except with Jake. Only, he usually only called her sweetie, but that was a completely different relationship all together. "I would be more than happy to spend time with you, as long as I could make up my test."  
  
Tilting his own head to meet her gaze, Orlando shrugged nonchalantly. His boyish grin transformed into an impishly mischievous smile, however, killing any possibility of pulling off casualness.  
  
"Eh, nothing," he replied with a small laugh.  
  
"Such an Athenian." Sighing with mock disapproval, he shook his head at her. The girl's dedication to her schoolwork was impressive, though, reminding Orlando much of himself while he was a Rosencrantz student.  
  
Flitting his blue eyes around the classroom, he tried to think of a feasible excuse to use on Professor Ferenia. After all, he didn't recall the woman from his time at school and, despite having taught at Rosencrantz for a while, he still didn't know the woman all that well. Several ideas came to mind, but the man's irrefutable integrity got the better of him. He wouldn't lie completely.  
  
"Well, if I were to get you out of class," he began, slowly detangling his fingers from hers and, instead, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I'd tell Professor Ferenia that I needed some 'assistance' with a project during my prep period and, as you're the only student with the astronomical competence to aid me, asked you if you could help me."  
  
Glancing warily at Faithe, he raised his eyebrows meekly. "You think she'd let you off with that?"  
  
'Tsk tsk tsk..." Clucking her tongue at him, she shook her head with a smile on her face. "Sounds good to me, Pinochio." Winking, she stood on tip toe to kiss his nose lightly, brushing her lips against his as she lowered herself back down, but not kissing him. Wrinkling her nose at him, she stuck the tip of her tongue out at him.  
  
"Yes, I -am- an Athenian, and proud of it," there was an arrogance in her voice that one could easily take to be serious pride. However, the look on Faithe's face after she said it gave away the fact that she was, for the most part, speaking in gest. Poking him in the stomach, she grinned. "As if you most likely weren't the same way when you were a student, Mr. Lorenz."  
  
Grinning at how incredibly and irresistibly adorable Faithe's endearing jests were, Orlando chuckled quietly. As she poked him in the stomach, he smirked a little then grabbed her hand and, holding it gently in the air, tickled her side with his free hand for a moment, grinning all the while.  
  
"Oh, so now I'm 'Mr. Lorenz'?" he joked, mocking her formality. "I see how it is, I tease you just a little bit and automatically I'm nothing more than an elder to you..."  
  
Flashing his characteristically boyish grin at her, he winked.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he answered, "In fact, I'd wager that I was worse than you in regards to 'Athenian-ness', though. Besides Quidditch practice, classes, and sleeping, I don't believe there was a ever a time that I wasn't in the library, reading through books of a sort, or independently studying Astronomy with Professor Estrella."  
  
Shrugging at his patheticness, Orlando rolled his eyes slightly.  
  
Squealing, Faithe wiggled uncontrollably from his tickling her, "Heyyy! That tickles!" Laughing, she stuck her tongue out at him again, trying to defend herself. "Ha ha! Elder my tush! You were still in diapers when I was born, thank you very much!" Shaking her head while grinning, a small laugh escaped her as she looked up at him, a coy expression on her face. "Orlando," practically purring his name, she winked at him.  
  
Shaking her head at his insinuation, she grinned, "I was worse. The only thing I ever do besides classes is more work. The past few years, we had this old crazy lady named Dobbels. I don't think she really appreciated the fact that I had such an adamant interest in Astronomy. I was always in here, trying to do as much work as possible. She looked at me one day and asked me if I ever went away."  
  
Laughing, she shook her head as she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist. "She was absolutely insane; she would be talking in English, and then go off in Spanish. Plus, she tried to convince me that the Aurora Borealis was a direct affect of Ursa Major overflowing with Milky Way Chocolate." Laughing, she shook her head at the insanity from her theory. "I think they had her teaching out of field."  
  
Guffawing and grinning as she wiggled away from his fingers, there was most certainly a sparkle in the man's brilliant blue eyes. "Yeah, Faithe, defend yourself by sticking out your tongue," he teased.  
  
As she purred his name and wrapped her arms around him, the man felt his stomach lurch. [I]'I swear[/I],' he thought to himself, putting his own hands lightly upon her shoulders, '[I]She has no idea what she does to me.[/I]'  
  
Chuckling at the preposterousness of the famed Professor Dobbels, Orlando rolled his eyes. "Just a little bit," he replied, with a wink, "I mean, anyone can make a mistake. After all, its [I]Corona[/I] Borealis that's a direct effect of Ursa Major's overflowing with Milky Way chocolate."  
  
Slowly backing up towards his desk, he gently pulled Faithe with him, guiding her by the shoulders as he moseyed. Taking his right hand off her shoulder, he plucked his maple wood wand off the edge of his desk as a grin came over his face.  
  
"So, you still wanna help me with that 'project'?" he asked with a mischievous undertone in his deep bass voice. Expecting her to be confused, he clarified his randomness. "You didn't expect to completely lie to Professor Ferenia, did you?"  
  
Rolling her eyes as she shook her head, a light smile on her lips. "I like Muskateers better, but I'm a Resee's girl." Winking, she reached up, running her finger down his jaw bone. Looking up at his eyes, she found herself unable to tear her brown eyes away from his twinkling blue eyes. A small laugh escaped her lips at his comment about the 'project.'  
  
"Hmmm...Let me think.What sort of project are we talking about?" A flirtatious, mischevious grin spread over her face. Closing most of the space between them, she reached up. Lightly tapping on his cheek, she 'drew' out Orion. Shaking her head, she grinned, "I'm such a dork."  
  
Feeling her fingers dot his cheek, Orlando closed his eyes, mentally connecting the dots and smiling when he realized that she had dotted out a constellation: Orion. Winking at her, his boyish grin countered her own mischievous one.  
  
"Well, Miss Cunningham," he began, looking into her eyes, "I'm not quite sure how to describe it..."  
  
His finger waltzed along her jawbone, over her lips and then the back of his hand scooped her head beneath her chin up towards him. Planting a soft, dulce kiss upon her lips, he grinned.  
  
"I believe you'll find it worth your time, though..."  
  
I'm in heaven... Feeling like some giggly school girl, her lip twitched slightly as he touched it. "That tickles," smiling as she spoke, she slid her arms down his some, resting her hands on his upper arm. Running her index finger in a small circle over his bicep, the left corner of her mouth crooked up in her famous half smile.  
  
"I don't know," her voice dripping in sarcasm, but her face showing gest. "I'm not specialized in Astronomy like you, Professor Orlando Lorenz." As she spoke her last three words, she put a small hesitation in between each name. When she spoke his actual name, her voice softened to a soft purr, winking as she did so. "I'll do what I can," a flirtatious expression crossed her eyes as she pulled back from him suddenly, breaking all contact, but still within a one foot reach.  
  
"What are we doing?"  
  
"specialized in Astronomy like you...  
  
Faithe's words clearly held a second meaning, Orlando noted to himself. Indeed, the girl probably wasn't as "specialized" as himself. Of course, he didn't exactly mind that. It probably had something to do with the male superiority gene, but he preferred it that way.  
  
As she touched his arms, the man could almost feel a slight, pleasant shiver ripple through his body. And then, as she purred his name once again, his boyish grin melted into a contented smile. Yet, when she pulled back so suddenly, his eyes lost their dazed look and his right eyebrow raised curiously.  
  
Hrm... Now, this could go one of two ways. Either he could grab her by the waist and spin her into his arms and dip her down, punctuating the near tango-move with a passionate kiss, or, he, too, could join in the "hard-to- get" game.  
  
Smirking, he opted for the second one. Turning around, he retrieved a pile of books, and handed them to her.  
  
"There's supposed to be a small comet passing by Earth soon," he stated. "I'd like to get an exact date of arrival as well as some background info on the comet itself."  
  
Gathering another, much smaller, stack of books, as well as a differentiation table, for himself, he sat down atop his desk and began working through a rather complicated looking mathematical equation.  
  
"If you wouldn't mind, start looking through those old astronomy journals for any comets appearing around the 1630 to 1650 time period...  
  
Bringing herself back to her objective, Faithe silently scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to wander. Had she not been completely engrossed in the book, she most likely would have felt Orlando's eyes on her. As it was, her thoughts had completely gone to various comets whose pictures had jumped out at her.  
  
Skimming through the index, she shut the book cover, setting it down on the desk. Deep in thought still, her eyebrows furrowed together slightly as she shook her head. "Orlando, I don't think that's an old comet. I don't remember ever hearing about anything in the time period, and I know I would have at least remembered that there was something within those twenty years. So far, all these books are mentioning comets around those twenty years. "  
  
Standing up, she walked back to the front and grabbed another two books. Skimming through the index until she found a timeline, she turned to page 246, careful not to rip the delicate pages. Her eyes moved quickly across the page, shaking her head again. "Nothing."  
  
Too engulfed in the possibility that was lingering in his mind, Orlando only nodded at Faithe's reply. Her research, or rather lack there of, had only reinforced the possibility that the comet he had become hooked on hadn't ever been seen before. Perhaps, just maybe, he was on to something grand.  
  
Finally getting past the difficult part of the equation, Orlando's quill began scrawling rapidly.  
  
dx/dt=4sin(3t) dy/dt=3cost-cot(t)/t^3 s(t)= 1.7x^3 + 3c^y -8xy s'(t)=v(t)=  
  
His handwriting went from being meticulous to nearly illegible. Despite the growing grin upon his face, his eyes were still deeply focused on the work before him. Glazed over with thought, they did nothing but stare.  
  
"X of t equals 19 when t equals 361.128n, and y of t equals 43.9 when t equals..." he mumbled under his breath. Please be 361.128... Scribbling urgently, the man set his quill down and smiled. "361.128..." he whispered.  
  
Mentally calculating the equivalent date, he looked up at Faithe with the biggest grin possible. They held before them the only known remaining astronomical journals whose observations had yet to be cataloged in the world. If there were no comets recorded in 1642 in any of those journals, then he had discovered a new comet.  
  
"Faithe," he said quietly, trying not to build his hopes up too much, "Look though the brown suede book right there- the one with the name Adrastos Jubliese on the cover- and tell me if there's any mention of a comet in his observations for February 16..."  
  
Her brown eyes froze on him as he murmured to himself, working on his equation. She felt growing excitement stirring inside of her as she watched his mouth move over the numbers. Faithe knew what all this meant, what it could mean. Hopping up, she snatched the book and began thumbing through it intently.  
  
Searching through, she almost squealed in delight and excitement. "Orlando," her voice somehow remained calm, but the look of jubilance on her face was almost too much to hold in, "There is nothing for February. Period." Her smile widened to a grin as she squealed. Standing up, she handed the book to let him see it himself.  
  
Leaning towards her, Orlando watched and waited, holding his breath. As she spoke, a broad grin took over his face. Nearly snatching the book from Faithe's outstretched hands, he hastily tore through the pages. There wasn't a thing written for February.  
  
That meant there wasn't a single recorded observation of this comet ever in history. And that meant that, as long as he had performed his calculations correctly, Orlando Corvello Lorenz had discovered a comet.  
  
Jumping off the desk he had been sitting on, he grabbed Faithe in his arms and twirled her around, lifting her feet off the ground, as he kissed her.  
  
"You know what this means?" he exclaimed excitedly. "We discovered a comet!"  
  
Squealing as he picked her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. Laughing as he spun her, she returned the kiss. "We nothing! You discovered a comet!" Grinning as her feet touched the ground, she wrapped her arms around him tighter, hugging him. The look of jubilance spreading even more on her face.  
  
"You did it! Gah...Now sixty years from now if the comet makes another appearance, I'll be able to say to my grandchildren, 'Yup! The Lorenz Comet! He was a teacher of mine, and I had the privilage of being there when he realized what he'd found.' " Taking a tiny step backwards, Faithe wrapped her hands around one of his. "I'm so proud of you." Her brown eyes sparkled with adoration and admiration as she looked at him.  
  
Grinning and laughing at the same time, Orlando's head shook as she spoke; he was much too modest to take credit for his own discovery.  
  
"361 years, 47 days from now," he corrected her, with that same grin still plastered upon his face, "We'll both be dead, but, indeed, the Faithe- Lorenz Comet will still live on... provided, of course, that it has enough mass to make another trip around the universe without dying out."  
  
Too excited about the new discovery, Orlando didn't even notice the way the proposed name for the comet sounded. He had intended it to be hyphenated, and the name Cunningham didn't seem to reflect the part of Faithe he wanted immortalized.  
  
Kissing her again, he squeezed her hand.  
  
"See," he said with a mocking grin, "I told you you'd enjoy this little project more than a Potions test..."  
  
Shrugging, she grinned, "Fine. 361 years and 46 days from now, my great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great," taking a deep breath, she continued, "great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great grandchildren's grandchildren read my everlasting diary, I will leave a message saying that I knew the most amazing," pausing she kissed his left cheek, "most wonderful," pausing again, she kissed his right cheek, " incredibly man." Kissing his nose lightly, she grinned.  
  
Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Faithe Lorenz?" Hearing her name with his last name, the first thought that popped into Faithe's head certainly was not the name of the comet. Isabelle Faithe Lorenz. That sounds...nice. Smiling, reached up and ran her finger down the side of his cheek. Whoa, hello! Come back from dreamy land sweetie. Talk about your thoughts being in Never Never Land.  
  
"The Lorenz Comet. This is your glory sweetie. Don't name it something you could very possibly regret. Besides, your discovered it."  
  
Blushing horribly as she kissed his cheeks, and then his nose, Orlando put a hand to his warm cheek and gave her his boyish grin. What in the world had he ever done to deserve such a wonderful, charming, adorable girl? As she put her arms around his neck, his own hands found their way to her hips.  
  
Hearing her voice repeat what he had just said, "Faithe Lorenz", a strange look came over the man's face. The words sounded quite nice together, as though they had been meant to be paired as such. Then realizing he'd said them aloud but a moment before, and seeing the dreamy look overcome Faithe's face, the blush in his cheeks deepened and a nervous chuckle passed through his lips.  
  
It wasn't that he was embarrassed of thinking such a thing, it was the fact that this was the second time in less than an hour that the thought had crossed his mind, and, that, this time, he had probably instilled the thought in Faithe's mind as well. 'Way to go, Orlando...'he though sarcastically as her finger waltzed upon his face.  
  
"Alright," he said, giving in, "The Lorenz Comet, is it, then." Nodding at her, he gently kissed the top of her forehead.  
  
"I wouldn't ever regretted naming it after you, though," he added quietly. Of course, there's always a possibility you'll share a name with it someday...  
  
Laughing, she shook her head. "You're such a goofus. So, what do you need to do, Orlando Lorenz, to make your astounding discover official? I'd hate to have seen you go through all of that just to have somebody else take it from you." Smiling, she toyed with a strand of his hair above his temple.  
  
"Who knows? You could end up hating me by the end of next week." The thought had crept into her mind more than once. She knew Orlando could do better, deserved better. Everything going on with him still felt like a dream to her, and she was startled by the idea that one day she would wake up from it. "So, when is your baby going to be visible?"  
  
"Well, I suppose I'll need to report it to one of the international conservatories, of which, lucky for us, one is located in the outskirts of Manhattan. I'll have to call them up today, of course, and 'stake my claim', but then, if you don't mind, we could stop by there next weekend, when we're there visiting your brother," Orlando replied, grinning as he mentioned their trip together, soemthing that he positively couldn't wait for.  
  
"Hate you by the end of next week?" he repeated, trying to stiffle his laughter. "Impossible. After all I've done to keep you, there's no way I'm letting you off that easy."  
  
Though his typical joking demeanor was still apparant, it was obvious that his sincere side was beginning to show itself as well.  
  
"About a week, two days, nine hours, seven minutes and thirteen-- fourteen-- - fifteen seconds," he answered after a moment, "Of course, I did just calculate that in my head, so I'm probably off by a few minutes."  
  
Grinning, his hands moved off her hips and wound themselves around her waist, locking their fingers together behind her back.  
  
"Whenever it is, though, you'll come up and see it with me, won't ya?" he asked, not really asking, though, "On broomstick, of course."  
  
Nodding, an excited expression crossed her eyes at the prospect of getting to go to a real conservatory. She had never had the opportunity to do so, her parents made sure of that. Her excitement for the Manhatten trip was continuing to grow. It had been quite a few months since she had seen Jake and Kaytlin. "I will definitely go watch your comet with you. Nothing would keep me away."  
  
"I can't wait! The weekend is never going to come! I can't wait to see Jake. And an even bigger plus is I get to spend the weekend with you." Grinning, she wrinkled her nose slightly as she stuck the tip of her tongue out. Faithe had a pretty good idea that Jake and Orlando would get along fantastically. "Oh! And I get to introduce to my baby girl!" Completely forgetting that she hadn't mentioned anything about her niece, Faithe didn't stop and think that her nickname for Kaytlin may sound rather...odd to Orlando.  
  
Grinning, Orlando nodded as Faithe spoke, getting excited himself at the wonderful weekend to come. Meeting Faithe's much-talked-about brother, officially documenting the discovery of his new comet, spending the entire weekend with a woman he had grown oh-so-terribly fond of, and...  
  
Brilliant blue eyes widened to the point where one would have thought the man was in shock. Faithe had a child? Dear God... He himself had made done some things throughhout the course of his life, namely Demeter, but the very thought of someone so pure, innocent, and sweet as Faithe having done... that...  
  
His breath had caught in his chest and his hands fell loose at his sides, dangling freely. Swallowing, he blinked several times and let his shocked look slowly transform into one of pure confusion.  
  
"What?" he breathed, quietly.  
  
Perhaps he hadn't heard her right. Oh, he hoped so. The thought of someone like Faithe having been through something like a pregnancy... The girl was barely eighteen, for heaven's sake.  
  
Hesitantly re-winding his arms around her waist, he gently rubbed her back as his eyes met her gaze, radiating concern more than anything else, though he was hoping for an explanation of sorts.  
  
Looking at him with a look of utmost confusion, it took Faithe a couple of silent, awkward moments to realize why Orlando looked as if he had just seen a ghost. Covering her mouth, she burst into laughter, leaning on him for balance. Trying to spit out what she meant by that, she found that it was hard to form words when her laughter was so heavy she couldn't breath. Simply shaking her head, she finally lowered her hand.  
  
"NO!!!" Still giggling, she wiped away a tear that had fallen from laughing so hard. "No, no, no! That would be rather difficult! Considering the fact that I've never..er...well..." looking down at the ground, an amused expression in her eyes, she simply waved her hand in the air to silently finish her thought. Looking back up at his blue eyes, she dissolved into another fit of laughter before gaining control over herself.  
  
"Kaytlin Cunningham. She's Jake's daughter." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she bit her bottom lip lightly. A more serious expression came over her as she searched his face. "She's almost five. Jake will be 21 in a month. When he was fifteen, he made a mistake, and Kaytlin was the outcome of that mistake. Bridget, Kayte's mother wanted nothing to do with her, and wanted to put her up for adoption. Jake wouldn't go for it. He knew that he had made a mistake, and had to pay the consequences for it. He loves Kaytlin more than anything, and he wouldn't give her up, but he does wish he would have waited."  
  
A small smile crossed her face, "He's a great father. Anyways, I helped him raise her. I didn't give birth to her, but I was more of a mother than Bridge was." Winking, she couldn't help but let a small laugh out. "I assure you, I don't intend on being a mother any time soon."  
  
Alright. She was laughing, so, either, that meant that she found his state of shock extremely entertaining, or that he really had heard her wrong. Hoping for the latter, Orlando simply raised his eyebrows and gave her a prodding look, awaiting the end of the giggling spell.  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief at her explanation, and chuckling slightly at her inability to do anything more than insinuate the action she had never taken part it, he grinned.  
  
"Oh!" he exclaimed mid-way through her explanation, finally understanding. Smiling, he nodded and then rubbed his blushing cheeks. Not that he had truly thought that [I]that[/I] had occurred, but the fact that, for an instant, the thought had crossed his mind was rather embarrassing.  
  
As she made the blatant point of her not intending on being a mother anytime soon, Orlando smirked again, amused by her bluntness. Then again, the way she had spoken so harshly of Jake's mistake, and the subsequent consequences brought a bit of doubt to Orlando's mind. Did she judge him as such for his own past? She knew about him and Demeter from the infamous morning after.  
  
Blowing off the worry, he shrugged inwardly.  
  
"Well, I can't wait to meet your 'baby'," he said with a grin.  
  
Wow Faithe, what a way to give him a heart attack. Smiling, she stuck her tongue out and touched the tip of his nose with the tip of her tongue. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. "You look so adorable when you blush, dahling."  
  
"Goofus. I would have told you before now if I had a child." Tightening her arms, she gave him a tight hug, kissing his cheek when she pulled back. "I should go send a letter to Jake and get him to make a reservation at the hotel. Will I see you later?"  
  
Sighing, Orlando hung his head with mock shame as she noted his blushing.  
  
"I know, I know," he said, "It's something I do much too often."  
  
Of course, he couldn't help it, and, as her lips gently caressed his cheek, he felt them grow warm again and grinned, knowing she probably noticed it as well.  
  
Wrapping his arms around her, after she had pulled back, he squeezed her against his chest, lifting her feet a few inches above the ground.  
  
Setting her down, he left his hands drop down to his sides, swingingly subtly.  
  
"Absolutely not," he replied. He kept a completely straight face for a few seconds before that broad, boyish grin shone through once more.  
  
"Of course you will."  
  
"Aww!" Pinching his cheek lightly, she grinned at him. "I love it when you blush sugarbear." Winking, she squealed slightly when he lifted her off the ground, her arms instinctively hugging him tighter. When he put her down and gave her the negative response, she poked her bottom lip out, pretending to pout. Sticking her tongue out at him with a mischevious glint in her eye, stood up on her toes, almost going into a point ballet position. Rubbing her lips against his, she pulled back quickly, a wicked smirk crossing her face.  
  
"Bye," turning towards the door as she spoke, she turned her head back to him, "Orlando." Purring his name again, she winked and headed towards the door.  
  
Ivy had been sitting there the whole time, watching them interestedly. Honey, love, sugarbear...It was all she could do not to burst out laughing. Oh, this was good, just too good to be true. Fun, fun, fun...  
  
Oh, but wait! A plan was already forming in her Discordian mind. This was spectacular. Oh, imagine that chaos that she could create with this! She stifled a giggle, remaining silent, and shook her head. Oh dear, oh, oh dear...  
  
Hearing Faithe state that she was going to leave, Ivy stood up silently and tiptoed down the stairs. She stopped near the foot of the stairs, knowing that it would look seriously suspicious if she was caught walking away. She innocently sat down on the steps and began to tie her shoes, straining her ears for the last fragments of the conversation. She was tying her shoes, just tying her shoes... 


	5. Manhattan, Here We Come

With her over night bag packed, Faithe headed out of her dorm room, ready for the Manhattan weekend that she had been anticipating for what seemed like forever. She and Orlando had decided to meet up at the train station - it would look a little less suspicious that way. If they happened to spot other students there, it would be easier to look as if they weren't together than if they were seen leaving the school with overnight bags.  
  
It was a Friday, and they were scheduled to return Sunday morning. She had sent Orlando a small letter to him that morning explaining the sleeping arrangements for the weekend. As she had suspected, the Plaza put them in a double penthouse. Satisfied that the arrangement was probably the best, and most entertaining, Faithe's excitement had only grown. The two most important guys in her life were finally going to meet, Orlando was going to get his comet, and Faithe would finally get to see her 'baby girl' for the first time in a few months.  
  
Walking along the platform, Faithe had already gotten her bag checked. Finding Platform 8, she climbed into compartment and stowed her stuff. Making her way back to the opening, she stood on the steps by the open door, her dark eyes scanning the mass of people for the familiar brilliant blue eyes that belong to none other than Orlando Lorenz.  
  
Walking through the doors to the train station, Orlando Lorenz had to readjust himself to city life. Loud, roaring, boisterous throngs of people were all he could see as his eyes darted around the place. He had lived in Manhattan once, only for a month, but, that had been quite awhile ago, and, since then, he had forgotten about how, well... rude one had to be if they were to get anywhere.  
  
Sighing to himself, he flung his small bag of clothes and such over his shoulder and began slowly elbowing his way through the crowds. Pausing to pull of his ticket, in order to know which platform to go to, he was shoved by a rather large, burly latino man, whose vocabularly was rather colorful.  
  
Welcome to Manhattan... Still, the trip wasn't going to be entirely like that. And, even if it was, having Faithe by his side the whole time, he probably wouldn't even care.  
  
Glancing around, he found the "Platform 8" marker and headed off towards it. Finally arriving, his brilliant blue eyes darted around in search of Faithe. Meeting the gaze of her brilliant brown eyes, his characteristic boyish grin took over his face and he walked towards her.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said, "Fancy seeing you here, Miss Cunningham."  
  
Reaching his reach hand towards her, he brought her hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss upon it.  
  
Her eyes lit up as she saw Orlando walking towards her, her lips spreading into a wide, welcoming smile. Blushing as she felt his warm lips on her hand, her smile changed into a coy expression, a small blush sprinkling her cheeks. "Why, Mr. Lorenz, I do declare! Aren't we quite the gentleman!" Speaking in a thick, 'Georgia peach' Southern accent, she brought her free hand up to her cheek. Laughing, she squeezed his hand and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
"Come on, Prince Charming, I already put my stuff in our compartment." Giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go, she turned to walk up the rest of the stairs, opening the door to their compartment. Plopping down on the bench seat, she offered him a flirtatious smile. "Ready for our 45 minute train ride?" Joking with him, she grinned. It was true though; they were only going from the outskirts of Manhatten into the heart of the city.  
  
This is going to be the best weekend of my life...  
  
Smiling genuinely at Faithe's adorable southern accent, Orlando tipped an invisible hat before following her up the stairs and down the corridor to their compartment.  
  
"If you insist, m'lady..."  
  
After closing the door behind him, Orlando flung his small shoulderbag onto the floor in a corner of the room and sat down next to Faithe. Wrapping his arm around her, he gently guided her head to his shoulder.  
  
"45 minutes alone in a room with you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows mischievously. Chuckling, he shook his head and smiled at her.  
  
"I've been waiting all week long for this," he said. "An entire weekend with you, finally meeting Jake, and getting to see your 'baby'... Couldn't be happier."  
  
"Mmm...I know you and Jake are going to get along. I just hope you have the energy for Kaytlin.She takes to people very quickly, and I'll know she'll absolutely fall in love with you." Kaytlin was, indeed, a very energetic child, and quite the little stage star. Snuggling into his body, Faithe closed her eyes as her head rested against his shoulder. "If I ever have children, and a daughter, I wouldn't mind her turningout remarkably like Kaytlin. She's always been such a great little girl."  
  
Sliding her hand over his chest, she trailed her hand down to his stomach, dragging her index finger down to his side. Poking him in the side, she looked up at him and grinned, her brown eyes finding his blue eyes. "You mean I'm stuck with you alone for 45 minutes?" Faking a resentful sigh, she crossed her arms. "Life just isn't fair."  
  
Breaking into a grin, she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Only 45? That isn't fair at all!" Sticking her tongue out, she tweaked his nose with her index finger.  
  
Hearing Faithe talking about having children was a little strange, yet nice, in a sense. And the way she spoke of Kaytlin brought a broad grin to Orlando's face. It was obvious how much she cared for the little girl.  
  
"I'm sure I'll love her just as much as you do."  
  
As her hand passed over his chest, he felt that familiar feeling of contentness ripple through him. A sincere smile crossed his face as he ran his hand up and down her arm, gently pulling her closer to him.  
  
"Don't worry," he replied, kissing the top of her head.  
  
"There's so much that can be done in 2,700 seconds," he whispered, using the rarely utilized lower register of his voice. A mischievous glint shone in his brilliant blue eyes as he turned his head to look into her dark ones.  
  
"Dork." The words were blunt, simple, and the smile on Faithe's face completely gave away that it was said in complete jest. Laughing softly, she shook her head. "You are such a math dork, my dear." Winking, she ran her index finger over his bottom lipsoftly. Though she was in complete tease mode, her stomach had flip flopped at the sound of his voice.  
  
A visible shiver ran through her body as she returned the mischevious grin. Poking him lightly in his side, she raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? And what's that? Play four highley stratagized games of dominoes?" Grinning, she ran her finger lightly over the cartalidge of his ear, making her touch light as a feather. Faithe could be such a tease...when she wanted to be.  
  
Indeed Faithe could be a tease, but so could Orlando. Of course, he rarely showed the playful side of his personality; there were always too many people around- too many prying eyes that would judge him for it. But, here, with Faithe as the only witness, it was different- he was completely comfortable with her.  
  
As her finger passed over his lower lip, the man had bend his head ever-so- slightly and kissed it, allowing the right side of his mouth to momentarily twitch upward in a sort of smirk before returning to its contented position. Of course, the satisfied smirk-ish expression returned to his face as he watched the shiver ripple through her body.  
  
Adorable. There was simply no other word.  
  
"Mmmm.not quite," he replied in a deep whisper.  
  
Surreptitiously reaching up, he removed her hand from his ear and placed it upon his face before stroking her face with his own hand, all in complete, transfixing silence as his eyes locked into hers, mind you. Gently lifting her head off his chest for a moment, his lips touched her forehead and then her lips, firmly kissing her.  
  
Pulling back, he relinquished her face and shrugged, breaking the intensity of the moment.  
  
"Of course, if you'd rather play dominoes." he said, resuming his normal vocal dynamic and octave.  
  
Smiling as he moved her hand, Faithe stroked his cheek bone lightly with her thumb. Practically melting at his low whisper, her look of adoration for the man in front of her played in her eyes. You are too perfect.  
  
A surprised squeal came out of her mouth when he kissed her, but it only lasted a partial of a second. Relishing the feeling that she felt in her stomach, and more importantly, her heart, Faithe reached down and squeezed his hand affectionately.  
  
Sticking out her bottom lip in a pout, the eighteen year old made tears well up in her brown eyes. Quivering her bottom lip, she drooped her posture, looking up at him with 'puppy dog eyes.' "If that's the way you want it..." Her voice came out sulky and in a soft purring whisper.  
  
Puppy-dog eyes, her pouting lip, the way her back sank into the seat. It was all too endearing. Suppressing his understandable urge to chuckle at how irresistibly cute Faithe was, Orlando's brilliant blue eyes stared into hers for a moment and the smirk on his lips gradually faded away into a nonchalant expression as he shrugged.  
  
Casually draping an arm around her shoulders, an odd smile appeared upon his lips. It was almost a smirk, but, then again, there was a certain look to it that could be interpreted as content. Gently pulling her a little closer to him, a small yawn escaped his lips, despite it being early evening.  
  
"Actually," he replied, retaining that indecipherable smile, "That'd be nice. "  
  
His voice, too, was unreadable, and, complemented by that perplexing smile, it was difficult to tell whether the man was furthering their little game of "hard-to-get" or being genuine.  
  
"We can save that sort of thing for tonight," he added, augmenting the confusion of the moment. It was difficult to tell exactly what he meant by the words "that sort of thing", not to mention whether or not he was joking or not. He had spoken so confidently, almost like that of a college boy who knew he'd be "getting some" that evening. Then again, the man speaking was Orlando Corvello Lorenz. One couldn't be too sure what he meant.  
  
She continued to quiver her lip slightly as he looked at her, only ceasing when he wrapped his arm around her. Resting her head against his chest, Faithe closed her eyes without a second thought about it. This was nice. All these feelings of contentment, adoration, affection, and absolutey felicity were still new to Faithe, and every day brought a new turn. Everytime Orlando's arms were around her, every hug the two shared, she felt a protection that she had never felt before.  
  
Hearing his last comment, Faithe grinned and shook her head. As she started to open her mouth to respond, a loud voice interupted her:  
  
"Attention all passengers: We will be arriving at Platform 12 in an estimated 20 minutes."  
  
Opening her eyes, she tilted her head up, sticking her tongue out at him. "What? Play dominoes?" Sticking her tongue out at him again, she touched the the bottom of his jaw with the tip of her tongue. "When we get there, we'll have to take a cab to the theater. Jake and Kaytlin live in the apartment upstairs, but they will probably be downstairs rehearsing. We can check in with them, and then I'll steal his car and we can drive over to the hotel. It's only a few blocks away. If that's all right with you?"  
  
"Of course play dominoes," Orlando replied, not missing a bit, "What else?"  
  
Grinning a bit and winking at her, he was momentarily caught off guard as her tongue teased his chin ((I presume that's what you meant by "bottom of his jaw")). Not that that was a problem, of course; he thoroughly enjoyed it.  
  
Nodding as she explained the agenda to him, a smile crept onto the man's face. He was still having a hard time believing that he was really on a train, headed to Manhattan to spend an entire weekend with the woman he'd grown so fond of. Meeting her family, seeing the city, officially patenting his very own comet. his excitement level was through the roof.  
  
"Stealing a car, Faithe?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow curiously, "I wouldn't have picked you out as a bad girl. Of course, whatever you'd like to do is all right with me, though. 'dear'."  
  
Grinning at his gest, she shrugged innocently, "Eh...stealing cars is a time old hobby in New York." Winking, she stuck the tip of her tongue out, wrinkling her nose as she did so. "I love driving his car. It's a 6 speed 1965 Boss 429 Mustang." Purring at the thought of the car, a dreamy expression crossed over her face. Giggling, she turned her brown eyes towards his striking blue eyes, "My brother and I rebuilt her almost from the ground up. He bought her from an old junkyard when he was sixteen, and he started working on it. Pretty soon, I jumped in and started helping him with it."  
  
Shaking her head at her own amusement, she reached up and curled a strand of his hair around her finger lightly. "Have you decided what you're going to name your comet?" Faithe was almost willing to bet that she had been almost more excited about Orlando's discovery than Orlando himself. The whole ordeal had increased her thirst to be an astronomer all the more, but Faithe knew better than to dwell on that dream anymore. Her parents had stripped her of any hope she may have held within her of following up on her passion.  
  
Not having grown-up in a muggle community, Orlando failed to understand the importance of cards and such technologies. Until he had been able to apparate, the man had merely walked everywhere, or, if the journey was particularly long, had traveled by broomstick. Cars were unnecessary and they failed to apay him in any way. Responding with a simple annuent, Orlando merely smiled. Though he didn't get the "big deal" about driving or the fact that the car was a '65 'stang, he found himself most amused by the mental image of Faithe helping this infamous brother of hers rebuild a car.  
  
Leaning his head into her hand as her finger wound itself around his hair, his smile widened. Actually, he hadn't thought about naming the comet at all. Between teaching his classes and daydreaming about this weekend, he hadn't had too much time to wonder about something so seemingly superfluous. But, now that she mentioned it, his head inclined curiously and his eyes glazed over pensively. Truly, he still wanted to immortalize Faithe forever and name it after her, but he knew that she wouldn't ever let him, and that her reasons were entirely justifiable. Still, this comet would live forever, and its name had to be something worthy of such infamy.  
  
"Actually, I haven't." he replied, half-dazed. "Any ideas?"  
  
Keeping her hand where it was, Faithe reached up with her other hand, stroking his cheek gently as she shook her head. "This is your thing. Name it what you want. Just make sure that it's something that has meaning for you. This isn't a small deal Orlando, and you deserve it to mean more than the world to you."  
  
Sitting there staring at him, her brown eyes became lost in his sparkling blue eyes. A warm, soft smile spread over her lips, "I want a picture of you." The comment was random, yes, but it was true.  
  
"Attention passengers: We will reach our destination in 5 minutes."  
  
She looked up at the speaker as the voice announced their arrival approaching. Looking back at him, she kissed him lightly on the nose, winking mischeviously at him. "Better start getting our stuff together."  
  
Leaning into her hand, a coy yet knowing beam altered the man's pleasant mien. He had known that she would say something of the sort. Something selfless, genuine and completely sincere. exactly the right words to say. It was just how she was. and Orlando adored her for it.  
  
As they sat there, lost in each other's eyes, an idea came to him, and, in an instant, he knew exactly what he wanted to embody forever in the name of his comet.  
  
"Stife de la foi," he whispered quietly, tone radiating the fact that that word was to be the name of his comet.  
  
Took a little by surprise at Faithe's random comment, Orlando just shook his head and grinned. "I'm not too photogenic," he replied with a laugh.  
  
Having their moment disrupted by the loudspeaker, Orlando shrugged and turned his head back to Faithe just in time for her lips to caress his nose. Rolling his eyes at her, he stood up and walked over to the corner of the compartment to pick up his lone bag. Flinging it over himself so the strap crossed over his chest, he shrugged again and smiled back at her.  
  
"Done and done, dearest."  
  
Smiling her infamous half smile at his photogenic comment, she merely shook her head. "Don't say that, sweetie. I'm sure it's not true." Grinning, she stuck the tip of her tongue out at him, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief.  
  
Standing up after him, she reached up and opened the overhead compartment. Running her hand through her hair, she reached into the front pocket of her bag and pulled out a ponytail holder. Flipping her head upside down, she pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. Grabbing her dufle bag, she threw it over her shoulder with ease.  
  
The time for the train to reach the station finally arrived. Stepping out into the busy station, she took Orlando's hand, dodging silently in between busy New Yorkers. Reaching the busy sidewalk, Faithe's eyes darted at the traffic, catching sight of a yellow cab. Stepping partly in the street, she waved the cab driver down. Looking up at Orlando, she grinned excitedly as the cab slowed and stopped in front of the two. "Your cab, m'dear."  
  
As Faithe drug him along behind her, Orlando was caught a tad off-guard and his feet caught underneath him for a moment, nearly causing him to trip. Regaining his balance, he began moving his feet in sync with hers as she guided him in and out of the crowds. Finding it slightly odd that, although he was the one who had lived a year in the city, she was the one guiding him, he merely shrugged inwardly.  
  
Watching as the cab slowed in front of the two, and that familiar smell of "city" filled his nostrils, the man recalled exactly how much he hated the city. Despite the charm its bustling held, there was just so much more about the outskirts that he found delightful. Still, he was there with Faithe, and seeing that excited grin upon her face made it all worthwhile.  
  
"Thank you, milady," he replied with a smile, opening the door. Holding it open for her, he chivalrously offered her his arm and waited until she entered the cab before sliding in next to her and gently closing the door.  
  
Halfway curstying before she sat in the taxi, Faithe winked at him adoringly. Why couldn't I have met you sooner? Telling the driver the address to the theater, the young woman leaned back in her seat. She'd always had nightmares about taxi cab drivers, therefore, she never rode in cabs alone.  
  
Riding in silence, she snuggled into Orlando, closing her eyes as she listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat. "Mmmm...I could get used to having you around." Tilting her head up at him, she smiled warmly at him. Grinning, she winked at him again, "You're hired." Laughing softly, she reached up and twisted a strand of his hair lightly.  
  
Despite the traffic, the ride wasn't very long and they had soon reached the theater. Stepping out, retrieving the bags, and paying the cabby, Faithe looked up at the tall brick building with the massive sign that said "Royal Broaway Theater."Sighing, a small smile played at the corner of her lips. Not because she was at the theater, but because she had missed Jake and Kaytlin so much.  
  
Walking inside the front door, she heard the orchestra from the lobby, signifying that there was a rehearsal. Faithe felt nervous all of a sudden. Her two favorite guys were about to meet each other, and she felt jittery. She knew the two would get along, but...This feels weird.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
Smiling as she snuggled into him, Orlando casually draped his arm around her back, toying lightly with her hair as they rode. A small laugh escaped his lips at her jest, and he shook his head, grinning.  
  
"You'd better get used to me," he replied, "'cause I'm not going anywhere."  
  
As the silence returned, at least for a short while, Orlando's mind began to wander. What if he and Jake didn't get along? What if something just didn't gel? A plethora of scenarios flooded his head, and he began absentmindedly gnawing on his tongue- which one might note as his most prominent nervous habit.  
  
Deep in thought, Orlando didn't really notice as Faithe exited and tied up things with the cabby. Yet, after a moment he felt the absence of a body beneath his arm and jolted back to reality. Scrambling out of the cab, he took the bags from Faithe with a bit of a mock bow.  
  
Turning his head to face the theatre, he followed her inside and, instantly, his ears were graced with the euphonious sounds of the pit orchestra. Smiling at Faithe, he nodded.  
  
"Sure."  
  
I'm not going anywhere. The words echoed inside her head after he had said them. Though they had been simple, they had been so heartwarming, Now they stood in the lobby. Taking a deeo breath, Faithe looked around the familiar place. Posters from past productions were stratigically placed around the room. More than half included Faithe and Jake, and even one with Faithe and Kaytlin onstage. There was a teaser poster from a dance production that starred Faithe when she was ten.  
  
Shaking her head, she walked into the auditorium through one of the double doors. Squinting, she looked towards the stage, trying to place a face with a voice. However, the tenor voice was quite familiar. It was Eddie. Continuing to walk, she stopped midway, crossing her arms as she looked intently at the stage. He needs to step back about two feet. The lighting does not look right that close to the front of the stage. Once again shaking her head, Faithe looked around to see if she could find Jake. Before she had had much of a chance, a small girl's voice rang out... and quite loudly at that.  
  
"AUNT BELL! AUNT BELL!" Before Faithe had a chance to even see where the voice was coming from, a small figure had halfway tackled her and was now clutching onto her legs. Reaching down, she lifted Kaytlin who wrapped her arms around Faithe's neck. Lifting her head, she looked up at Faithe and leaned her head in, the two rubbing their noses together just like the gnomes did in David and the Gnomes. Their 'secret' kiss. Laughing silently, she looked at Orlando and winked. Looking up at Faithe, the girl got an ecstatic expression on her face, "Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat?" Kaytlin asked, practically jumping up and down in Faithe's arms.  
  
"Hmmm...You have had six cups of sugar this morning?" Winking, she watched as the little girl stuck her tongue out, her nose wrinkling as she did so. Faithe had noticed over the past year how little habits that she had had began rubbing off on Kaytlin. Shaking her head, a small grin spread over the little girl's face. "Daddy wanted to send you a letter, but I wouldn't let him. I wanted to tell you myself." As Kaytling nodded excitedly, Faithe smiled warmly at the little girl's outgoing attitude and overall exuberant countenance. "I get to play little Cosette in 'less miserabibles." Faithe couldn't contain the laughter at the way Kaytlin pronounced the famous musical's title.  
  
Gasping loudly, Faithe raised both her eyebrows. "That's awesome Kayte! You know I played little Cosette when I was your age." Reaching up, she tweaked the little girl's nose lightly. "Uh huh! I know! That's what daddy said!" Looking around, Kaytlin's eyebrows furrowed together thoughtfull as her dark brown eyes carried a determined stare. Kaytlin looked a lot like Faithe had when she was younger, and Faithe had looked like her grandmother. Her eyes settled on Orlando, a curious look coming over her face.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Hesitantly trailing Faithe into the auditorium, Orlando's eyes wandered about. Preferring the silent solitude of the heavens, he had never been much of a dramatic person and, thus, the aspect of drama was new to him. The lights, the action... All of it was a bit overwhelming. And then there was Kaytlin.  
  
Dear Lord...  
  
The resemblance between Faithe and Kaytlin was striking. So much so, in fact, that the suitcases Orlando had held in his hands fell to the floor the moment he saw her. True, they weren't twins, but the man had always had a sense about these things. And it wasn't only the physical resemblance between the two that astonished him.  
  
Brilliant blue eyes watched in a sort of awe as Faithe interacted with the tiny girl, and his jaw dropped slightly. The way she talked to Kaytlin, acted towards her... everything about Faithe was perfect. Perhaps some of the man's admiration came from the fact that his own mother hadn't exactly been the Queen of Kindness. In fact, the woman had had about as much compassion as a rock.  
  
Meeting the small child's gaze, a broad, boyish grin swept over Orlando's face as he gradually let his knees collapse beneath him and knelt upon the ground. Flitting his eyes to Faithe for a moment, they seems to communication his emotions more perfecty than any words ever could.  
  
"Orlando," he answered, not really sure as to what to tell her about who he was in relation to Faithe, reverting his attention to Kaytlin, "It's great to finally meet you, Kaytlin. Faithe's told me so much about you..."  
  
Faithe raised her eyebrow slightly as the suitcases fell to the ground, but couldn't hide the smile as she watched Kaytlin stare at him curiously. Kaytlin stepped to within a foot of him, staring at him quite intently. Had Faithe been on the other side of that stare, she probably would have been rather nervous. However, she smiled as she watched that characteristic goofy smile of Orlando's.  
  
Kaytlin's face finally broke into a smile. Reaching down, she lifted a small silver chain that hung around her neck. Pulling the charm towards the center, she held it in front of Orlando's face, the smile still on her face. "Aunt Bell gave this to me. She said it's the Northern Star. I know which one that is in the sky. It's the brightesded one. When sailors get lost, that's the one they use to get home to their childrens." Nodding knowingly, Kaytlin let the small star fall back down. ((Okay, I'm picturing the star charm from The Patriot that was around the necklace Gibson gave the chick.))  
  
Faithe chuckled. "I'm guilty. I've already started corrupting the child." Grinning, she looked up past Orlando at a figure walking towards the group. A wide smile spread across her face as Jake came walking up.  
  
"Izzy!" Jake's soft tenor voice managed to carry over the rehearsal that was still taking place. Reaching his sister,the two hugged, and Jake picked Faithe up, spinning her around. Squealing slightly, Faithe couldn't help but laugh as he put back down. Reaching up, she ruffled his hair as she stuck her tongue out. "How's my baby sister doing?" Pinching her cheeks, Jake used his dramatic baby talk voice. Slapping him lightly in the shoulder, Faithe wrinkled her nose at him. "She's about to kick your butt!"  
  
"Daddydaddydaddy!" Kaytlin jumped up and down as she pointed at Orlando. "This is 'lando!" Jake looked down with an amused expression at his daughter. Raising his eyebrow, he looked back at Faithe. "You realize this child has been asking me every five minutes for the last twenty four hours when you were coming?" Looking over at Orlando, a welcoming smile spread over his face. Sticking out his hand, he nodded, "It's great to finally meet the famous astronomy teacher. Congratulations on your comet! That's amazing."  
  
Kaytlin looked up at everybody standing above her, blinking with an expressionless face on her face. Looking back at Orlando, she tilted her head slightly, "Are you Aunt Bell's boyfriend?"  
  
For that moment while Kaytlin's eyes scrutinized him, Orlando found his breath caught in his chest. Everything seems to ride on the outcome of this first impression. What if the young girl didn't like him? How would he ever make it through the weekend then? Thankfully, though, the plaguing thoughts died out as the girl's stare was broken by a smile.  
  
Smiling back at the small girl, Orlando nodded as she showed him the brilliant necklace ((that I still don't know how it looks... Never seen that movie. lol)). It took him a moment to figure out why the girl kept referring to Faithe as "Bell", then it clicked. Recalling that first day in class, he remembered that Faithe was her middle name and that Isabelle was her first. Now it made sense.  
  
Glancing up at Faithe, Orlando bit his lip and shook his head. Indeed she was already "corrupting" the girl. Then again, was it really so wrong to have a passion for something so beautiful?  
  
Hearing a voice exclaim the word "Izzy!", the man's brilliant blue eyes darted in that direction. Watching the two siblings reunite, a small laugh escaped his lips. Jake was certainly everything Faithe had told him he was. It was nice to finally have a face to put with all the stories.  
  
Standing up, Orlando took Jake's hand in his own and shook it before releasing it, nodding in acknowledgement of his comment.  
  
"Thanks. It is quite amazing indeed," he replied, "Orlando Lorenz, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jake, I presume."  
  
Things were going quite well, he thought, a small, content smile appearing upon his face. Yet the serenity of the moment was broken by the young girl's question.  
  
Wow... this is certainly awkward.  
  
The smile dropped from Orlando's face and his eyes flitted to Faithe's, radiating near panic. He wasn't sure how to answer that, exactly. For one, he hadn't exactly ever paused to classify his and Faithe's relationship. Then, Jake had just identified him as Faithe's astronomy teacher. If he confirmed the girl's suspicion, that certainly couldn't bode well for him in Jake's eyes. If the role's were reversed, Orlando was sure that he would punch the professor who was dating his younger sister.  
  
What a delicate quandary indeed...  
  
Then again, Jake had to already know. He didn't seem like the dense type. Why would a girl's Astronomy professor accompany her to Manhattan if there wasn't anything going on? It's not like the two had been close friends while he had been a student or anything. Then again, he hadn't a clue what Faithe had told Jake already or what she wanted to keep secret.  
  
"Um..."  
  
It wasn't often the man was at a loss for words or an explaination of anything. He could explain nuclear fusion, astrophysics and the mathematics behind quasars, but he couldn't seem to come up with an intelligible reply to such a simple question.  
  
Faithe placed her hand over her mouth as she tried stifle her giggle that was trying its hardest to escape. Crossing her arms, she bit her bottom lip, but her smile was still quite obvious. Jake, on the other hand, didn't even try to hide the laugh. Noting the look of panic on Orlando's face, he forced a cough out, allowing his laughter to die down. Getting that mischevious glint in her eye, Faithe tilted her head, casting a look of adoration and a look that said I'm about to do something mean to you. Walking over to her brother, she slid her arm through his and started tugging him towards the stage.  
  
"Come on Jake dear, why don't we leave Orlando to the inquries of your daughter while I talk to you." Winking at Jake, she stuck her tongue out at Orlando. Of course Jake knew. He was her best friend, and she his. They told each other pretty much everything that happened in their lives. Jake looked uncertain for a moment, but at the look on Faithe's face, grinned and nodded.  
  
Practically skipping, Faithe headed down the aisle, Jake in tow. Slowing to a walk, she pulled her arm from his and glued her eyes to the stage. Eddie was still up there, but had noticed her by now. Jake leaned over the bar to talk to the orchestra conductor briefly.  
  
"All right, lunch break! See you guys in an hour!" Jake raised his voice loud enough for the rest of the orchestra and the stage bodies to hear. Eddie took his mic off and walked down the stairs, a wide smile on his face.  
  
"Isabelle!" Reaching out, he pulled her in a tight hug...a little too tight for Faithe's comfort. Pulling back, she returned the smile. Eddie had once confided in Jake that he had a bit of a thing for Faithe, which Jake had relayed to her. Ever since then, there had been an edge towards him from her, but she never showed it.  
  
Kaytlin looked at Orlando curiously, blinking as she tilted her head. "Are ya? Huhhuhhuh?" Grabbing his hand, she started pulling on his arm in an attempt to pull him towards the others. "You hafta meet Uncle Eddie! I have a black cat named Tippy. I named him Tippy acause the tip of his tongue is white." Nodding, she tried her hardest to pull the full grown man.  
  
As the two siblings cracked up, Orlando's face grew warm with a brilliant blush. Letting out an incredulous gasp, he just stared at Faithe for a moment before blinking several times, trying to be sure that he had actually comprehended the moment correctly. As she pulled Jake in the opposite direction, his jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head. No way she's leaving me alone with the inquisitive little girl...  
  
But she was. Not that he minded so much, at least she had left him with someone he could talk to. And at least the awkwardness had passed. Seeing Jake grin, he knew that the man already knew. How exactly he felt about it, however, Orlando still wasn't sure. He seemed to be alright with it; he hadn't beat him to a bloody pulp... yet. Jake didn't seem like the type of guy to do such a thing, but the thought still lingered in Orlando's mind. After all, he was older than both Faithe and Jake...  
  
Shifting his gaze, his eyes never left her body as she and Jake sauntered down to the stage. Intently staring at the man whose embrace of his Faithe was a little too intimate for his own personal comfort, Orlando failed to hear Kaytlin's incessant prodding. Orlando had never really been the jealous type, but, even as far away as he was, his divination talents led him to believe that Faithe wasn't exactly comfortable with the man either. Something about the way she held herself with him wasn't right.  
  
"Yeah," he replied slowly, answering Kaytlin's question at last, more to claim Faithe as his than to answer her question., "I'm her boyfriend," he added, more confidently and defiantly.  
  
Letting the small girl pull him, Orlando slowly followed her towards the stage, making a mental note to learn more about this "Eddie" character, who he presumed was the man who had hugged Faithe... and making another one to ask Faithe why everyone at the theatre called her Isabelle.  
  
"Alright, alright," he chuckled, breaking his pensiveness and quickening his pace a bit as he made his way towards the stage.  
  
Flitting his eyes around, his mind wandered, wondering what sort of life these theatre folk led. Yet his thoughts were disrupted when they reached the row in which Faithe stood.  
  
Partially to prove something and partially because he was just being flirty, Orlando dropped Kaytlin's hand and came up behind Faithe. Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her a little towards him to lie his chin on her shoulder.  
  
"Quite a little tabloid reporter Jake's got there," he whispered into her ear with a grin. "Hope you didn't mind me exaggerating about our relationship a bit..."  
  
Pulling his head back and stepping to the side of Faithe ((provided that there's room in the row)), but not letting his arm move from her waist, Orlando nodded in acknowledgement of Eddie's presence.  
  
"Orlando Lorenz," he announced, extending a hand  
  
"When did you get in Izzy?" Eddie smiled at her, tilting his head slightly. Faithe hated it when he called her that. It was one thing when Jake did it, he was her brother. Her body had tensed up at Eddie's presence, and she was holding herself rather stifly.  
  
"Not too long ago. Actually, we can't stay too long. We have to go check in at the hotel, but we'll be back later tonight." Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, Faithe watched his eyebrow raise in curiosity. Breaking her eye contact with Eddie, she looked up at the stage, "The set looks great. It's great to know things are going so well." Clearing her throat, she looked up at Jake with a rather pointed expression. Catching the hint, he smiled.  
  
"Did Kayte tell you that she's playing little Cosette?" Grinning, he looked back briefly at the little girl, checking to see how Orlando was fairing. Turning his attention back on Faithe, he smiled as she nodded.  
  
"Yes, she did. She's really excited about it." Laughing slightly, she shook her head, trying to shake off the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would probably go away if Eddie wasn't staring at her so intently. That and the conversation of Les Misérables around Eddie always made her feel uncomfortable.  
  
"Well, the stage isn't the same without you Isabelle. I hope you know that." Finally speaking, Eddie nodded in agreement with his own comment. Forcing a smile, Faithe gave him a look of gratitude.  
  
Before she could say anything, she felt the familiar feel of Orlando's arm around her waist. Feeling her body relax against his, she turned her head slightly and gave him a warm, very welcoming smile. Laughing quietly, she winked at him, sticking the tip of her tongue out at him.  
  
"Aww...you poor baby." Whispering back, she looked up at Jake and grinned. Kaytlin came around and started to pull on Faithe's shirt. Looking down, she smiled at the little girl extending her arms. Picking her up, she hoisted the girl onto her hip. As Orlando extended his hand, Faithe looked up at Eddie's face, noting that look of...competition?  
  
"Eddie Polazzo." There was a stiffness in his voice that Faithe had never heard before, which surprised her. As he stuck out his hand, Eddie shook his hand a bit tighter than he normally would anybody else. Looking at Jake, Faithe raised her eyebrow.  
  
"Guess what Uncle Eddie?" Kaytlin grinned excitedly, as if she were about to expose some secret. "'lando is Aunt Belle's boyfriend." Practically whispering the word 'boyfriend,' Kaytlin dissolved into giggles.  
  
Eddie forced a smile and nodded, "Nice to know Isabelle finally got her head out of those books." Umm...ouch? Faithe narrowed her eyes at Eddie. That was a rather bitter comment, not something he usually threw her way. Noticing the glare he was receiving, Eddie gave her a smile of gest. "I didn't mean it like that Izzy, you know that!" Winking, he reached out and tweaked her nose, "I've never known you to be the type that would be in any sort of a relationship."  
  
Faithe forced a smile and nodded. Stepping a bit closer to Orlando, Faithe looked at Kaytlin who was busy fiddling with the silver chain that hung around Faithe's neck. Laughing silently at the look of utmost concentration on the girl's face, Faithe reached up and brushed a few strands of hair out of Kayte's face.  
  
"Well, I only have an hour. I should be off for lunch." Eddie cleared his throat and broke the silence. Nodding at Orlando and Jake, and winking at Faithe and Kaytlin, he was gone. Exhaling deeply, Faithe turned the two remaining.  
  
"Jake, I need to steal the car for a few. I don't feel like taking the subway with our bags." She was obviously bothered by what had just happened, but when it came to being uncomfortable around people, Faithe was infamous for being so introverted.  
  
Smiling as he felt Faithe melt into him, Orlando gave her a flirtatious wink back. The way her rigid spine had relaxed just then confirmed his earlier suspicion that this "Eddie" character made her uncomfortable.  
  
As Faithe shifted against him and Kaytlin was lifted up onto her hip, Orlando gave the tiny girl a grin before looking back at Eddie. Noting the serious-ish look upon the other man's face, a sort of satisfied smirk made a futile effort to show itself on Orlando's face. Yeah, that's right, punk, she's ma Foi, not yours...  
  
"Nice to meet you," he remarked affably, shaking the man's and matching the intensity of his grasp, silently vying with him.  
  
A small, barely noticable blush, crept into his cheeks at Kayte's comment and he laughed warmly, rolling his eyes ever-so-slightly in the young girl's direction. Uncharacteristically, just to rub his being with Faithe in "Eddie"'s face, he leaned over and planted a gentle peck on Faithe's cheek.  
  
"Sure am, Kaytlin," he replied with a grin that deflected any reason for anyone to suspect he had done that for any other reason than affection.  
  
His jovial mien faltered slightly at Eddie's comment, almost so much that his eyes glared at the man, matching Faithe's. Unlike Faithe's though, his look didn't completely vanish after the man had tweaked her nose. Instead, it softened into one of those unreadable looks.  
  
Glad she had stepped closer to him, Orlando tightened his arm around her waist and waved Eddie off pleasantly, watching as the other man walked away, glad that he was gone. He had made Faithe uncomfortable, and that didn't exactly score him points in Orlando's book.  
  
Flitting his glance towards Faithe as she spoke to Jake, his eyes radiated his concern. He would have said something there, but figured it would be best to wait until they were in the car... alone. Instead the words went unsaid, though his eyes conveyed their meaning.  
  
"Yeah," Orlando added with a laugh, "I should probably go retrieve our bags... Seeing as they're still lying back in the main hall where I dropped them."  
  
Faithe had a weird feeling inside of her. There was no other way to describe it. There was something about the way that Orlando was acting that just did not seem like him. Shaking off the feeling, she grinned at Orlando's comment about the bags. "Eh, don't worry about it right now. We can grab them on the way out." Kaytlin looked up all of a sudden, looking around at everybody.  
  
"I hafta go potty." Her announcement was rather loud, but she tilted her head silently asking who was going to take her. Giggling, Faithe looked at the little girl, absentmindedly running her hand through the little girl's dark hair.  
  
"I will sweetie." Looking at the two men, she grinned. "We'll be right back." Walking back up the aisle, Faithe made her way with Kaytlin to the bathroom.  
  
Jake watched the two walk off, smiling as he shook his head. Looking back at Orlando, he grinned, "Sorry about leaving you with her, it was all Izzy's idea." Chuckling, he shook his head again, "Have you learned yet how hard it is to say no to her?"  
  
Making a small annuent in response to Faithe's comment, Orlando mellowed out. Eddie was gone, and things were good again. Seeing Kaytlin's head snap up, his face got a quizzical look upon it, then a jovial one, laughing at the girl's candidness. There was something about youth that was so. blissful. Kaytlin still carried with her ignorance, openness, all of those other admirable traits that people lost as they grew older.  
  
Watching the couple walk off into the sunset, so to speak, Orlando's eyes glazed over with a sort of admiration, not only for Kaytlin's innocence, but for Faithe as well. The way she took care of Kayte never ceased to bring a beam to the man's face. Brought out of yet another thoughtful trance, he looked up at Jake, listening to the man's words.  
  
"Not a problem," he replied, grinning as he recalled the awkward situation of a few minutes earlier. "I figured as much.  
  
"Yeah, sure have," he agreed, referring to Jake's latter comment, "Beautiful little girl you've got. She's precious."  
  
Jake followed his gaze, nodding silently. "It amazes me how much she looks like Isabelle when she was her age. Of course, Izzy got her looks from our grandmother, and Kayte likewise. I hardly ever get to see my daughter when Izzy's in town. I swear, I think Kaytlin has an addiction to her." Looking back at Orlando, he offered a smile.  
  
"As for Eddie, ignore him. He's always a little on edge when it comes to the prospect of Belle having any interest in anybody." Furrowing his eyebrow slightly, a thoughtful expression crossed his face, "Though he did have a point." Grinning, he chuckled quietly, "She has an amazing sense of intuition, and for her trust somebody in that area..." Trailing he off, he shook his head as his grin widened, "If she trusts you, then so do I. That's all I've got to say."  
  
Offering a mischevious grin, "And if you hurt her, you better watch your back." Chuckling, he winked to show he was, indeed, just joking.  
  
*****  
  
"How are you coming along Kayte?" Faithe tapped on the stall door gently, inquiring to make sure she hadn't gotten stuck in the toilet....again.  
  
"I'm great!" Hearing the toilet flush, Faithe stepped back to allow Kayte to get out of the stall. The girl walked out, her dress tucked into her underwear. Stifling laughter, Faithe reached down and untucked the dress, "Don't forget to wash your hands."  
  
Watching as Kaytlin carefully poured soap into her hand, a small smile formed on Faithe's lips. Will I ever have children? Kaytlin turned off the water and walked over to the paper towel dispenser. Of course, the dispenser was a good foot and a half above Kaytlin. Laughing as she watched the girl try to jump for a paper towel, Faithe walked over and lifted her up. "There you go sweets."  
  
Reverting his attention to Jake, Orlando listened as the man spoke; nodding as he described Kayte and Faithe's relationship, and chuckling a little at Jake's taking note of his own reaction to that sly "Eddie" character (who, one might add, had been filed under the heading "scumbag" in Orlando's mind).  
  
Listening intently to each word Jake spoke, Orlando's light-hearted demeanor transformed to a focused one. It seemed, from Jake's words, that this "Eddie" character was indeed a creep. 10 points to Orlando, his intuition had proved itself again.  
  
Blushing slightly as Jake made his own mention of intuition, regarding Faithe's trust in Orlando. He was right, though, and Orlando himself knew that it took a lot for someone like her to trust anyone, ((Warning: cheesy line ahead)) especially with something as fragile as her heart.  
  
Grinning back at Jake, Orlando shook his head.  
  
"Don't worry," he replied, changing the tone of the conversation from joking back to serious, "If I ever hurt her, I'd make sure that I didn't have a back left to watch."  
  
Haunting as it may have been, the last statement was true. If he ever did anything to hurt Faithe, Orlando didn't think he could live with himself. She was goddess, and he a mere mortal.  
  
"You think Kayte fell in?" he asked with a laugh, reverting to a more upbeat and slightly less morbid subject.  
  
Jake looked content, as if he had heard exactly what he wanted. He trusted Faithe's decisions about people, but there was still that protectiveness he felt about her. She was his little sister, and he had seen her hurt enough times that he didn't care to see it again. Laughing at his comment, he shook rubbed his eyes, "Don't jinx her. She did fall in once. They were in the bathroom for a good 15 minutes. Bell walked out laughing with a wet Kaytlin attached to her hand."  
  
Chuckling, he looked up the aisle in time to see Faithe and Kaytlin walked back down, hand in hand. Kaytlin was swinging her hand back and forth, a contented happy smile of a five year old with no worries on her face. "I feel better now!" Grinning, she looked from Orlando to Jake to Faithe back to Orlando. Faithe was always amazed at Kayte's openness to strangers. She herself had always been leniant towards meeting new people.  
  
Sliding her arm around Orlando's Faithe smiled at him, "Are you ready?" Holding out her other hand to Jake, she waited until she felt the cold keys in her hands. Grinning mischeviously, she looked at Jake, almost laughing at his goofy sorrowful look he gave Orlando.  
  
"Man, I hope I see you alive again. Bell is a speed demon in that car." Faithe gasped, an innocent smile playing on her lips.  
  
"Am not!" Sticking her tongue out at him, she looked back up at Orlando, "He's bein' mean to me." Sticking her bottom lip out, she pouted. Chuckling, Jake reached out and poked her in her side, "Get outta here! Don't forget, we're eating in about two hours."  
  
Cachinnating at the mental image of the young girl falling into the toilet and Faithe emerging from the restroom with a soaking child, Orlando's face radiated his amusement. Shaking his head, he gestured down the walkway at the pair with a grin.  
  
"Naw, they're good," he remarked, "And Kayte looks pretty dry."  
  
Simpering at Kaytlin's incessant innocent charm, Orlando's eyes flitted from Kayte's back to Faithe's as if to say "how adorable." He hadn't exactly had a lot of contact with children. Being the baby of the family, and never being too into dealing with kids, aside from the teenagers he had student-taught while in Maine, Kaytlin was pretty much his first experience with children, and it showed.  
  
He wasn't exactly sure how to speak with the young girl, as one may have noted. Sure, he found her endearing, and could share a smile or laugh with her, but as far as actually talking to her, he was clueless. Had he felt a little more comfortable, it's feasible that he may have joshed around with her a little more, as Faithe did, but he had just met the girl.  
  
Still, there was something about her that he sincerely appreciated, prompting the thought of having children of his own into his head. Of course, that thought was promptly knocked out as he felt Faithe's arm entangle itself with his own. Smiling at her, the sympathetic look Jake was casting upon him caught the corner of his eye, inciting his gaze to focus on Jake and an eyebrow to raise inquisitively.  
  
"Eh, if I don't, it was great to meet you before I die, Jake," Orlando replied with persiflage in his voice, punctuating the jest with a wink.  
  
Sliding his arm out of hers and, instead, grabbing her hand, Orlando gradually began to lead Faithe towards the exit. Once they had reached the end of the row, he stopped suddenly. Turning around, he grinned and waved good-bye to Kaytlin, then reverted his attention to Faithe.  
  
"Lead the way, ma Foi, I haven't a clue where the car is."  
  
Scoffing at them both, Faithe slapped Orlando lightly on the shoulder for his comment. "You two are horrible..." Pretending to sulk, she allowed herself to be pulled by Orlando. Kaytlin looked around, tears welling up in her brown eyes. "Nooo! You can't leave!" The small girl whimpered as she looked around.  
  
Jake chuckled as he picked his daughter up, "They'll be back sweetie." When Orlando turned and waved, Kaytlin raised her small hand and waved back.  
  
Leading the way out a side door in the lobby, bag over shoulder, Faithe stopped in front of the fire engine red Mustang. Grinning excitedly, she opened the passenger side door first before opening her door. Throwing her bag in the back, she slid in and fastened her seatbelt. Sticking the key in the ignition, a shiver ran down Faithe's spine as the familiar sound of the deep, loud engine cut through the silence. Hitting the button on the driveway door opener, Faithe watched in the rearview mirror to see when she was safe to pull out.  
  
Grinning at Orlando, she shifted into reverse and pulled out, finally shifting into first gear. Heading down the back street, Faithe shifted gears like a pro, relishing the feel of the deep vibrations underneath her. Looking over at Orlando for a moment, she smiled before returning her gaze to the road.  
  
"I knew they'd love you."  
  
Following Faithe out to the car, Orlando couldn't seem to shake the vision of Kaytlin waving at him out of his mind. It was almost haunting in a sense, yet, in another, completely wonderful. The tiny girl liked him. That was good, and, more than that, Jake and him seemed to get along well, too.  
  
When Faithe stopping in front of the Mustang and her face became contorted with that grin, Orlando rolled his eyes.  
  
"It's only a car, Faithe," he declared with a teasing sigh.  
  
That whole growning up in a wizarding community on the sea had really been quite detrimental to Orlando's masculine car fetish-ness. Aside from the few months he had lived in Manhattan with Demeter, he had never so much as seen a car. And, of course, the man had never ever driven one. Frankly, he never saw the need. Walking or riding his broomstick was good enough for him.  
  
Hesitantly sliding into the car, he flung his shoulderbag into the backseat ((presuming that this 'stang has one)) and coped a squat in the passenger's chair. Raising an eyebrow at Faithe's intrigue, Orlando shook his head and laughed good-naturedly as she relished the feeling of driving.  
  
Returning the smile she gave him, Orlando blushed slightly.  
  
"Eh, we aim to please," he replied modestly, "It was nice. I'm glad I met them. Jake's great, and Kaytlin, in spite of her blunt curiosity, is absolutely precious. I must say, though, she did catch me a bit off guard with that first question. And then you just left me to fend for myself..."  
  
Chuckling, he shook his head and grinned.  
  
"She's adorable, though. Not like that 'Eddie' character..."  
  
At the mention of Eddie's name, Orlando's vocal inflection instantly turned cold and a little bit bitter.  
  
"What's his story?"  
  
Wrinkling her nose at his comment about the car, Faithe had only shaken her head. As she drove, she couldn't help but laugh at his comment. "Blunt would be the word to use, yes. I will never forget the time we were having a dress rehearsel, and a reporter and photographer from the New York Times was there. She stops in the middle of our duet and announces into her microphone that she had to go take a...How did she put it? 'I hafta take a dookey.' I was laughing for fifteen solid minutes before I could do anything about it."  
  
Smirking innocently at his other comment, she got an innocent look on her face that plainly said 'I'm guilty.' Giggling, "Awwww. I must say, you handled it well. What did you tell her?" The smile on her face faded away pretty quickly at the mention of Eddie. Not really wanting to talk about it, Faithe allowed the awkward silence to fill the car for a good five minutes before saying anything.  
  
"He grew up around my family. Jake is the closest friend he has." Turning a corner, Faithe allowed the silence to fill in the car once again. She knew perfectly well that wasn't what Orlando was asking about. The whole deal with Eddie wasn't something she had ever really had to talk about. Those who needed to know about it, knew about it. At the same time, Faithe knew if she could trust anybody, Orlando was that man. Sighing, she pulled into a large parking lot, following it around to an upper level. Parking, she turned the car off and sat there, staring at the steering wheel.  
  
"I always saw him as an older brother, and a sister was the last thing in the world he saw me as. He's been trying to take me out on a date since I was 14, but I've just never been interested in dating before, especially him. It'd be like dating my brother, ya know?" Unbuckling her seatbelt, she turned to face him, resting her head against the head rest. ((wow..what a concept.)) Ignoring the strand of hair that fell across her face, she offered a half hearted smile. "Last year we put on our annual production of Les Misérables. I was Cosette and he was Marius. If you know the story then you know that they get married at the end, and weddings require a kiss. Well, we use a stage kiss where it looks like you're kissing, but you're not. Our mouths are on each other's cheek, and we turn out heads so it looks like we're kissing to the audience, but we really aren't. Well, he decided on our last performance night that the whole stage kissing thing just was not happening for him. So, when it came time for the wedding scene, he definitely did not do what we had rehearsed, knowing I couldn't really do anything about it." Shrugging, she reached back and grabbed her bag.  
  
"It could have been worse, and I know it really wasn't that bad, but..." Shrugging again, she pulled the key from the ignition. "Ever since then, I just haven't felt too comfortable around him. No big deal." Opening her door, she stepped out, clicking the lock as she went. Walking around to the front of the car, she waited for Orlando to join her.  
  
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips as Orlando imagined Kaytlin doing such a thing, which, given her nature, was entirely feasible.  
  
"Oh, nuthin'," he answered with a devious smirk upon his face.  
  
Noting how uncomfortable just a mention of that scumbag character had made her, Orlando was sorry he had brought that topic up. well, almost sorry. There was a sort of curiosity that had been sparked and, although he didn't want to bring up any sour memories, he couldn't help the fact that he wanted to know what had gone on with the man before him.  
  
The eerily awkward silent that filled the car prompted the man to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He and Faithe had never really had one of those "awkward silences" before, and he certainly didn't want to make them a habit now. Glancing warily at her, he sighed quietly and shook his head. About to say something, his mouth opened, then closed when she spoke at last.  
  
"He grew up around my family. Jake is the closest friend he has."  
  
'Well,' Orlando thought, slightly bitterly, 'wasn't that informative.  
  
It wasn't that he was resentful of her not telling him, it was merely the fact that he had thought they trusted each other enough to talk about anything together. After all, he had told her about his past with Demeter pretty much the night after they really "met". Then again, he hadn't told her the whole story, but she knew enough. Casting a cagey glance at her, he tilted his head, trying to meet her gaze with his sympathetic eyes.  
  
Failing to do so, he just listened for a moment. Then, as she turned to face him, a small hint of a compassionate smile crossed his face. Of course, any hint of something representing happiness was absent from his face as she continued. His mind fast-forwarded to finish her story and a mixed look of disgust and shock took over his face as the sickening thought that Eddie may have violated the chaste young woman crossed his mind.  
  
Thankfully, though, her story negated such, taking away a little of the tension that had come to make the man's entire body on edge. Though it hadn't been as intense as his mind had first thought it to be, the Eddie character was most certainly a violating scumbag.  
  
As Faithe moved to exit the car, Orlando found himself unable to move. Lost in thought, he just sat there for a moment, with a blank, vacantly contemplative look upon his face. At the slam of the door, though, he jolted up and, grabbing his bag from the back, slowly opened his door and exited.  
  
Walking around to the front of the car, the vacant expression remained on his face.God.I had no idea.'  
  
Shaking his head, somewhat in disbelief, he bit his lip and wrapped his arms around Faithe, hugging her tightly against him. Lying his head upon her shoulder, his hand reached up to stroke her hair.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
The words were nothing compared to the amount of guilt Orlando felt. Granted, he couldn't have done anything to prevent it, but the fact that he hadn't been there to stop someone from causing Faithe such pain bothered him.  
  
Pulling back, but still keeping her in his embrace, Orlando's lips gently caressed Faithe's neck before his eyes rose to meet her gaze, full of concern.  
  
"You alright, ma Foi?"  
  
Feeling his arms wrap around her, Faithe snuggled into him, grateful that he was here with her. "I'm fine, really. I mean, there are worse things that could have been done offstage." Which was true; girls went through a lot worse nowadays. Offering him a small smile, she reached up and brushed an eyelash from his cheekbone, being as soft as she could. "I refuse to put myself in a situation where I'm alone with him. I just don't feel comfortable. I mean, he probably wouldn't do anything, but I'm not willing to risk it."  
  
A small shiver ran through her when he kissed her neck as another small smile pulled at her lips. Running her index and middle finger through his hair, she toyed with a lock of his dark hair, an act that was becoming almost habitual to her. "What does 'ma Foi' mean? You've been using it a lot lately." Squeezing his hand, she intertwined her fingers in between his as she started walking towards the elevator to take them down to the first floor. Mashing the button on the little silver panel, the elevator door opened almost immediately. Surprised at their good luck, she stepped inside and hit the button for the first floor.  
  
'Such wise words for one so young...' Orlando though, amazed at Faithe's ability to cope with something like that as though it were nothing. Granted, if he hadn't known the girl, he'd probably think she was exaggerating, but having met Eddie and knowing Faithe's character, he wouldn't put anything past that creep.  
  
"C'est français, ma petite cherie," Orlando replied with a grin. His accent was marvelous- so much so that the words seemed to simply roll off his tongue. Awhile back, perhaps a year or so, he had taken Demeter to France and, during that summer, had become remarkably fluent in the French language.  
  
Chuckling, he walked in sync with her towards the elevator, gently swinging their hands in time with their feet. Taking a step inside, he waited until the elevator's door had slid shut before speaking.  
  
"Ma Foi," he repeated, smiling tugging at the corners of his lips, "is just a little nickname I've patented for you."  
  
As the elevator door opened, Orlando grinned. Picking up Faithe's bags, he sauntered out of the elevator and into the lobby, turning around give Faithe another grin. It wasn't that he had anything against telling the girl, but the fun that could be had by letting her guess that intrigued him.  
  
"You coming?"  
  
Nodding slowly at his spurt of the French language, Faithe only grinned and nodded. "Right. To think, all I know is Latin." Grinning and winking, she wrinkled her nose up in playful gest. She knew a few phrases in French, but she seriously doubted the last thing he wanted to hear were the phrases 'I love you,' 'I adore you,' or 'good night.' Well, maybe the second one wouldn't completely freak him.  
  
Checking and getting their keys, she declined the offer of the bellhop. Walking towards the hotel elevator, she pressed the button. After the door had slid open and shut behind them, she hit the button for the top floor. "They did put us in the penthouse. It has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a half bathroom, a kitchen, a minibar," furrowing her eyebrow, an amused expression came over her face, "And it still confuses me, but there's a hottub in a den type room. It looks out over the city. Of course, there is a wonderful balcony with a gorgeous view." Grinning, she stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
Hearing the familiar ding as the doors parted once more, Faithe stepped out onto the carpeted hallway. Making a left turn, she walked to the door at the far end of the hallway, openeing the door. Stepping inside the positively massive room, Faithe dropped her bag by the couch, she herself collapsing onto the couch. "I don't want to move." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breathe, suddenly feeling very exhausted.  
  
"Eh," Orlando replied, "Latin's what all the other romance languages came from. Français, español e italiano." he mused with a wink. He couldn't speak more than a word of the latter two, but his pronunciation of their names would have led one to believe otherwise. Surprised that she wasn't pressing him to tell her what her little nickname meant, an odd glance crossed the man's face. This wasn't any fun.  
  
"It means 'my Faithe', by the way," he added casually. "Ma Foi, that is."  
  
Trailing her back into the elevator, rather a different elevator, his face grew bright with excitement at the mention of how extravagant their room was. Though his family was well-off, they hadn't exactly ever shared their wealth with Orlando. Instead of having a nice room, he would sleep in the loft of the house, when he slept inside, that is. For the most part, he would sneak out and spend his nights upon the roof, gazing at the stars- his lone saviors in the night.  
  
Following her as Faithe exited the elevator, he wound his way through the hallways. As she opened the door, the man's jaw dropped. Brilliant blue eyes took in the sight before them, accompanied by an incredulous gasp. Luxurious was the only word that came to mind.  
  
Slowly entering the room, and placing his bag next to where Faithe had laid hers, he drifted over to the window, looking out.  
  
The bright city lights made it impossible to see almost anything in the sky, save the bright sphere of Saturn in the spring sky. That was one of the reasons that Orlando had chosen to move away from the city; the lack of stars in the night sky. It was as though the city never slept, which, in fact, it didn't.  
  
"You tired already?" he asked, turning back to face her. "It's not even eight o'clock," he added with a yawn, which he made a futile attempt to hide with his hand, "and there's way too much we've yet to do tonight before you can do to sleep."  
  
Giggling at the nickname bit, Faithe opened her eyes, training them on his back. "I knew you'd tell me." Hopping up, she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Resting her head on the side of his arm her brown eyes followed his out to the city. Faithe had always failed to decide whether she was a city girl or a country town girl. There was a bit of both in her, always had been, always would be.  
  
She missed Mulberry in Texas so badly. Out in the middle of nowehere, population, less than a hundred. There were nights when she would sit on her grandpa's backporch and simply stare at the stars and planets. Occasionally she would pull out the telescope she had been given by her brother, but often times, she enjoyed to just sit back and watch them without an analyzing eye.  
  
Sometimes though, being in a slow moving town drove her insane. Faithe didn't like to feel bored or stagnant, and that idle feeling found ways of creeping in while in the middle of nowhere. The city was always fast pace, always moving, and Faithe like that too. Everything fit.  
  
"It's been a long day." Nudging him lightly with her chin at his yawn, she laughed softly. "We should probably hop in the shower." Pointing towards a bedroom to the left, "You can take that room if you want. There isn't any difference in them, except that one is mainly decorated in a light green and the other one is in mauve."  
  
"Mmm?" Placing his hands atop hers, Orlando turned his head back for a moment to smile at Faithe, not sure if he'd heard her correctly.  
  
"We?" he repeated, getting a deviously mischievous grin upon his face. Chuckling to himself, he shook his head, knowing Faithe to be much too innocent for that type of thing. That was more of the sort of thing Demeter would do.  
  
Oops. Rule number one of relationships: don't compare your current to your ex.  
  
Mentally scolding himself for that last though, he sighed and moved to turn away, planning on taking his bags into the room she had gestured to. Yet, as he head turned, his eyes caught a glimpse of the heavens, or rather, lack there of. The ardent astrophile in him was slightly disappointed at the lack of stars, yet it was that very same part of him that delighted in the few celestial phenomenons that had still been there to grace both Faithe and himself with their presence. Most notably, of course, his comet.  
  
He had calculated its path several times over, enjoying each small equation in the gigantic math problem solely because the fact that he was performing those calculations reminded him of his accomplishment. And there it was, up in the sky, the icy ball of rock melting away and leaving a gorgeous tail of dust, gas and vapors in its path.  
  
Orlando had originally planned on showing it to Faithe later, perhaps at the observatory the following night, mainly because he didn't think it was bright enough to shine through the city lights, but the moment seemed to good to pass up.  
  
Taking one of her hands off his waist, he reached it out, pointing her fingertips toward the tiny spec in the sky.  
  
"See that, Faithe?" he asked, "C'est ma 'stroi de la foi'." Though he had spoken the flowing words quickly, almost so they were unintelligible babblings, he was sure Faithe knew what he'd meant.  
  
Rolling her eyes, she playfully shoved him, looking up in his eyes as he turned his head around. Sticking her tongue out, she couldn't resist the chance to take advantage of his turning his head. Standing on tip toe, she gently kissed him before he turned around. Feeling the warmth of his hand around hers, she followed his gaze up to the sky. An excited feeling rushed through her body.  
  
Stepping to stand in front of him, she leaned up against him. Raising her eyebrow curiously, "Wha..huh?" Fast words in a different language. She knew it was his comet, of course, but whatever he had just said was completely oblivious to her. Staring at it, a contented expression came over her.  
  
"That's your comet, Orlando. How does it feel to know that it's going to carry your name for the rest of eternity?" Laughing, she turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck loosely. "I am so proud of you," she repeated the phrase for the umpteenth time. "Nobody deserves this more than you, you know that?" Reaching up, she toyed with a strand of his hair softly, a look of adoration, respect, and admiration filling her eyes. "You deserve to be immortalized...especially with this."  
  
Caught off guard by her kiss, Orlando's lips barely caught hers. The small moment they touched was enough, signified by the sparkle in the man's eyes as he winked at her.  
  
Laying his head upon her shoulder as she leaned against him, he dropped her arm back down and wrapped his arms around her waist, pretty much putting them in the same position as before, in opposite places, however. Humbled by her words, a small blush warmed Orlando's cheeks.  
  
"Oh, but it's not my name," he replied as she turned around and placed her arms around his neck. "I'm nothing special- nobody worth immortalizing with something so phenomenal as a comet as their name's embodiment, at least.  
  
"'La Stroi de la Foi'," he repeated, slower this time. "Know what it means?"  
  
Placing his hands around her back, he grinned as he whispered: "'Streak of Faith'."  
  
About to object to his disagreement, she kept her mouth closed as he continued on. An incredulous look crossed her face as he repeated the words as she found herself getting lost in his voice. Feeling her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, she dropped her gaze down to his arms around her. Looking back up at him, she searched his face, her brown eyes finally meeting his sparkling blue eyes.  
  
Offering a small, coy smile, "You are a streak of faith." Wincing slightly at the corny comment, she grinned nervously at him. "Faith is what brought you to me. Destiny and faith." Oh dear, Faith. You sound like a moron. Hey, what else is new? If I can't act like a moron in front of Orlando, who can I act like a moron in front of? Raising her eyebrow as if to say 'Yes, I know that was bad,' she shook her head.  
  
Squeezing his hand, she looked back up at the comet, surprised that it was visible in the middle of the city. "We probably should start getting ready." Trying to make a quick exit from the completely idiotic feeling she had, Faithe walked over to the couch and grabed her bag.  
  
Oh, the cheesiness.  
  
Whether prompted by Faithe's corny comments or her own reaction to them, Orlando found it impossible to stop himself from laughing. Not laughing at her, mind you, but just laughing good-naturedly with amusement. Watching her gaze revert to the sky, his hands found their way to her warmly blushing cheeks, gently guiding her face back towards his, giving her a quick kiss before she could make her exit.  
  
"Et tu est la mienne ((with "mienne" referring to his streak of faith))," he replied with a grin, knowing full well Faithe didn't speak enough French to comprehend it.  
  
"And you are mine," he whispered, translating the phrase for her.  
  
Laughing as she made her escape from the awkwardness, Orlando reluctantly followed her.  
  
"So," he asked, throwing his bag over his shoulder, "where're we going for dinner? Am I going to have to wear a penguin suit, or will just jeans and t- shirt suffice?"  
  
Making his way towards his room, he stopped at turned around at the door.  
  
"And what about that whole us taking a shower?" he added with a smirk, emphasizing the "pluralness" of the word "us" as opposed to the "singularness" of the word "a", insinuating that only one shower was to be taken.  
  
Faithe grinned as he started laughing...the laugh that she had grown to adore and cherish. "I know...that was bad. Really bad." Smiling warmly at the tingling sensation his lips left on hers, she winked. Laughing at his clothing attire inquiry, she nodded. "You can wear whatever you want sweetie. Jake is cooking in his apartment, it's not like we're going anywhere."  
  
Feeling her cheeks turn pink, a coy smile spread over her lips. Laughing, she walked innocently towards the couch, setting her bag down calmly. Half running, half skipping, Faithe practically tackled Orlando. Throwing her arms around his neck, she stood up on tiptoes and kissed him fully. Pulling back, she stuck her tongue her tongue out at him, a flirtatious grin spread over her face. "J'adore." Turning, she skipped back to her bag, not looking back to see the look on his face.Closing the bedroom door behind her, Faithe could not wipe the smile off her face as she jumped in the shower.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Faithe was drying off and getting dressed. Putting on a light yellow skirt with tiny blue flowers sprinkled across it, and a white tank top, Faithe still held the same smile on her face. How in the world did I get so lucky? After blow drying her hair, she grabbed her flip flops and stepped out of the room. Thanks to her shampoo and body wash, she now smelled like strawberries as opposed to a train.  
  
"Whatever I want, eh?" Orlando replied. "So, if I wore one of your dresses, that wouldn't be a problem?" Laughing, he wrapped his arms around Faithe as she pretty much jumped into/onto him. Lifting her up a bit as he kissed her back, she seemed to bolt away the very moment he set her down. The French words echoed through his mind as that Orlando-ish grin took over his face.  
  
"You little."  
  
Finding himself a little stunned, Orlando just stood and watched as Faithe sauntered into the bathroom, and he heard the shower water begin to run. Shaking his head, he, too, reverted to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.  
  
Being a guy, it didn't take him nearly as long. After a quick seven-minute shower, it only took him about five or so more minutes to clad himself in some khaki pants, a white undershirt and a rather nice looking black button- up shirt. And, as an added bonus, Orlando took a razor to his characteristic stubble, giving himself a clean-shaven face that almost made him look like a foreigner to himself. Without the likeness of a beard, his face looked very juvenile, making him look his age, if not younger.  
  
Sighing, he redid the clasp on his watch's leather band and walked back into the main lobby area of their penthouse. Walking over to the window, he watched his comet for a few minutes more, until he heard the door of Faithe's room open.  
  
Turning his head, the man sighed with awe, blinking his brilliant blue eyes.  
  
"Tu est belle, ma Foi," he breathed, walking over and giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.  
  
"Mmm.." Smiling faintly as Orlando walked over to him, opened her eyes. Wow. "That shirt is incredibly flattering on you sweetie." Not that Orlando needed much flattery when it came to his appearance, or his personality. He was perfect how he was. Standing up, she ran her hand over his smooth chin.  
  
"You have no hair. Did accidently use the wrong razor?" Laughing, she winked at him as she gently rubbed her thumb along his jawline. "Ready?" Picking up her purse, she grabbed the keys to the Mustang. Putting the plastic key card in one of the purse pockets, Faithe grabbed his hand and began walking towards the door, Orlando in tow.  
  
Reaching the elevator, she stepped in, and within 10 minutes they were back in the car, on the way to Jake's. Starting the car up, that normal shiver she got from the sound of the massive engine ran through her body. "I sincerely hope that Kaytlin does not decide to share her food with you this evening." Grinning as she pulled out, Faithe cast him a warning look.  
  
Faithe's compliment brought a soft rouge color to Orlando's cheeks. Thanking her with his eyes, rather than words, he smiled.  
  
"We aim to please."  
  
Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head.  
  
"This is the thanks I get for trying to look nice?" he replied, taking her hand in his and wiping her fingers along his cheek. "Don't worry about it, Faithe, I'll have my nice conventional stumble back tomorrow morning."  
  
Letting her take him by the hand, Orlando followed her out, shutting the door behind them with his foot.  
  
Before plopping into the Mustang, the man's blue eyes cast a glance at the car, this time with a sort of new respect for the machine. Slowly but surely, the car was growing on him. Smiling, and nodding at the car with reverence, he plopped himself into the seat, glancing at Faithe with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Aww hunny," poking her bottom lip out as she spoke, "You look nice all the time." Grinning mischeviously as she drove, Faithe left him in a pondering silence for awhile. Turning a corner, Faithe slammed on the brakes as a car cut her off, coming within inches of her front bumper. Taking a deep breath, she shifted back into first, once again starting on her way. I hate New York traffic.  
  
Feeling slightly shaky at the close call, Faithe hit another back road to avoid the traffic. "The last person Kayte met that she liked, and we had over to dinner, ended up with her spaghetti all over them." Looking over at him for a few seconds, a mischevious grin crossed her lips, "I think you and I have had enough flying food. What about you?"  
  
Finally reaching the theater once more, she pulled into the garage. After the door had closed she opened the side door and instead of heading towards the lobby, took a side door that was almost hidden a corner. Taking Orlando's hand in hers, she started the trek up the stairs that could easily equal the distance of three floors. Reaching the door, she rapped on it before opening it, leading Orlando into a spacious, beautifully decorated apartment. "Home sweet home."  
  
Ready to make a comment, Orlando was jolted into silence as Faithe slammed the brakes. The man's brilliant blue eyes widened with shock and a look of absolute terror contorted his pleasant face for a moment, which probably gave him quite a comical look. As aforementioned, Orlando hadn't had too much experience with cars. Even when he and Demeter had lived in Manhattan, the two hadn't really seen much purpose in wasting time sitting in traffic when they could get somewhere just as fast by walking.  
  
After a moment, the man swallowed and began breathing again. Shooting a look at Faithe, he shook his head, gasping quietly.  
  
"I'd ask if you were alright, but I think I'm more shook up about that than you are," he noted, breathing quickly still.  
  
Riding in silence the rest of the way, one might note that Orlando's hand failed to cease clutching the door handle ((I assume there's something of the sort for him to cling to on the 'stang)) almost so hard his knuckles turned white. When at last they reached Jake's, he didn't hesitate the exit the car. As Faithe led him in and up the stairs, he took a quick look back at the car, no longer with a look of reverence, but more of a wary gaze.  
  
At the top of the stairs, he diffidently peaked into the apartment. Wow. Theatre must be more profitable than I thought.  
  
"Nice."  
  
"I hate New York traffic. They're so rude. The cops use their sirens and lights just to get around traffic."  
  
"Jake? Kayte?" Setting her purse down and tossing the keys on a nearby table, Faithe furrowed her eyebrow. It's too quiet...  
  
"AUNT BELL!" The sudden loud squal of the little girl, Faithe didn't see her in time to prevent Kaytlin from burrowing into her. Loosing her balance slightly, a small cry emitted from her mouth as she fought to stay up on her two feet. Lifting the child quickly, she managed to keep from visitng the floor.  
  
"Hey there sweets," laughing as she spoke, Faithe shot Orlando a surprised expression. Kaytlin leaned in, rubbing her nose against Faithe's as they had done earlier. "Where's your daddy?" Before Kayte could answer, Jake came in, wiping his hands on a towel. Offering a smile as Kayte wiggled out of her hands, she watched as the little girl ran towards Orlando. Laughing as she watched Kaytlin throw her arms around Orlando, she gave Jake a side hug.  
  
"'lando, guess what? I lostded a tooth today after you left!" Opening her mouth, she pulled back her top lip, exposing a small hole where a canine used to be. Reachingn her arms up, she jumped up and down, signifying that she wanted to be held.  
  
Indeed, the silence of the apartment was quite unnerving. Still unsettled due to the near deadly (in Orlando's opinion) car crash, Orlando's blue eyes shifted warily back and forth, darting across the room. As Kaytlin nearly tackled Faithe, a rather loud gasp escaped his lips and his hand reached out, snagging Faithe's arm as she fell.  
  
Shaking his head and laughing when he realized it was none other than that adorable little girl, Orlando just grinned.  
  
A little surprised when she came running towards him, Orlando shot Faithe a slightly awkward "what do I do?" glance before throwing caution to the wind and scooping the small girl up into his arms by placing one hand around her back and the other beneath her knees, just like he had done with Faithe on more than a few occasions.  
  
"Wow, really?" Orlando replied, seemingly getting the hang of how to behave with young children as she spun her around in his arms. His head tilted inquisitively and he pretended to look into her mouth. "That's great, Kaytlin. You'll have to put it under your pillow tonight for the Tooth Fairy."  
  
Laughing slightly as Orlando shot her a questioning look, Faithe nodded encouragingly. Tilting her head slightly, a thoughtful smile spread on her lips as she watched Orlando with Kaytlin. He looks so sweet with a child in his arms. He'll be a great father one day, if he ever has children. Talk about random thought. Standing up straight, she looked at Jake, grinning.  
  
"What's for dinner Chef Cunningham?" Reaching out, she shoved him gently in his shoulder. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Grinning, he balled his fist up and proceeded to give her a 'noogie.' Squealing, she pushed away from him, bawling up her first and punching him lightly in the arm. "Punk!"  
  
Nodding, he winked. "We are having fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, mac and cheese, and bread."  
  
"Gracious me." Grinning, Faithe brought back her little 'Southern Georgia peach' accent,' "Talk about some Southern Style cookin' my dear." Winking, she turned her attention back on Orlando and Kaytlin.  
  
Kaytlin nodded enthusiastically about the prospect of the Tooth Fairy. "Uh huh, yup! Last time she brought me five whole dollars!" As she spoked, her voice became all the more excited as she practically jumped in Orlando's arms. When she said the word 'five,' she held up five fingers. Looking at Faithe, she wriggled out of his arms and ran back to her.  
  
"You hafta help me with my song tonight!" Grabbing her hand, Kayte made an attempt to pull her over to the CD player that undoubtedly held a CD of 'her' song. Grinning, Faithe reached down and picked her up.  
  
"How about after dinner sweetie?" Poking out her bottom lip, Kayte nodded with a melodramatic pout on her face. "Aww...stick that lip out anymore and we can use it as a book case." Kaytlin gasped at the comment, and Faithe proceeded to mock her in nonmalicious gest.  
  
Laughing, Jake shook his head, "Come on you guys, dinner is ready."  
  
((Five days and this is the best I can come up with. Isn't that pathetic? lol))  
  
Flitting an eye over towards Faithe while Kaytlin remained in his arms, Orlando's lip twitched upwards with mild amusement as Jake and her bantered. Not more than an instant later, however, did his attention revert to the sugar-high girl in his arms; feeling her scramble out of his grasp, he jolted a little, watching with a half-open mouth as she ran over towards Faithe.  
  
Yet again, Orlando's face was overtaken by that mildly amused look. His brilliantly blue eyes closed slightly, but were not yet squinting, one eyebrow flattened out while the other was jerked upward, as though it was caught in a fishhook, the left side of his mouth was pulled into a half- smile while the other side remain inactive, and his neck was slightly tilted as he shook his head at the pair.  
  
Hearing Jake, his head cocked a bit, then he meandered over towards the table. Chivalrously taking Faithe's hand in one of his own, he used his free hand to pull out a chair, and then gently swung her around (like one might do while swing-dancing. only slower) into the seat. Flashing her a glimpse of his cheesily adorable boyish grin, he sat down in the chair next to her.  
  
"Dinner looks delectable, Jake," he remarked.  
  
Smiling as he spun her around, Faithe took a seat, squeezing his hand affectionately before letting go. She was definately ready for a home cooked meal, especially Jake's cooking. He was definately the chef in the family, that was for sure.  
  
****  
  
An hour later, the four had reassembled in the spacious living room. After hearing fifteen minutes of Kayte's pleading for Faithe to sing with her, she finally threw her hands up in resignition. Although, she felt rather nervous singing in front of Orlando.  
  
Picking up the CD player remote, she turned the power on while Kaytlin hopped into her lap. Jake grinned as he leaned forward in his chair, resting his head on his fists.  
  
There is a castle on a cloud  
  
I like to go there in my sleep  
  
Aren't any floors for me to sweep  
  
Not in my castle on a cloud...  
  
Kaytlin's voice was soft and innocent, but she had a very impressive voice for a five year old. Faithe had consciously softened her tone to match the little girl's, but it was easy to tell that she had a powerful, melodious voice. As soon as the short piece had started, the last chords decrescendoed into silence as Faithe hit the power button.  
  
Looking down, she avoided looking at Orlando, her face turning a soft shade of pink. Kayte jumped up, running over to Jake. Jumping into his arms, literally, Kayte wrapped her arms around her father's neck. Standing up, he he lifted the girl into his arms. "Alright sweetie, it's time for bed."  
  
The smile on Kayte's face dropped as a sad, pouty expression crossed her face. Poking her lip out, she quivered it melodramatically, "Pwease let me stay up daddy." Looking up, Faithe's eyes widened in amusement as she chuckled at her niece.  
  
"Where in the world did she learn that?!" Laughing as she stood up, Faithe shook her head. Jake's eyebrows raised in a look of playful accusation.  
  
"Gee, Faithe, I don't know, Faithe, where in the world, Faithe, she would learn something like that." Winking, he added in an afterthought, "Faithe."  
  
Gasping, she brought her hand up to her chest, "I have no idea what you are talking about." Sticking her tongue out, she dared to look at Orlando, casting a wink his way.  
  
"Can Aunt Bell put me to bed?" Making a sniffling noise, she turned her big brown eyes on Faithe in a silent plea. Laughing, Faithe stood up and took the child from Jake, raising her up a few feet above her in the air. Bringing her back down, she wrapped her arms comfortably around the little girl.  
  
"Of course I will. You two be good." Looking from one to the other, Faithe winked before walking into Kayte's bedroom.  
  
In spite of the abundance of furniture, Orlando had opted for the more comfortable seat that was the carpet. After all, it just felt better. Reclining so that his back lay against a chair or couch, he was perfectly comfortable upon the floor. Smirking inadvertently, he gazed expectantly at her as Faithe pressed the play button and the euphonious works of Les Misérables flooded his ears.  
  
Noticing that she had glanced down, a reverent smile took its place upon the man's face. Modesty was definitely a trait that the man respected. Then, as she sang, the respect blossomed into admiration, although that, too, is an understatement. Although he had never been exactly musical, Orlando could most certainly appreciate the woman's voice. Delicately powerful, and softly strong, it was, in a word, amazing. And, of course, the slight rouge in the young woman's cheeks, brought a broad grin to his face in place of the smile.  
  
Amused by Kayte's juvinile antics, the man chuckled slightly, answering Faithe's wink with a nod of his own.  
  
"Good-night, Kaytlin," Orlando called with a wave as he watched Faithe take Kayte away, "Don't forget to put that tooth under your pillow!"  
  
Jake sat back down, crossing one leg over the other. "Those two...they are going to get in trouble one day." Grinning, his eyes scanned the room before settling on Orlando. Sitting in silence a few moments, Jake tapped his fingers on his knee. "You know, I don't think I have ever seen my sister this happy." Standing up, he chuckled, "I'm going to go make sure Eddie locked up before he left...if they've all left yet. Will you go make sure Izzy didn't fall asleep with Kayte?" Grinning again, she walked out of the room.  
  
After making sure her tooth was securely under her pillow, Kaytlin finally relaxed under her yellow and white flowered comforter. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faithe's eyes followed the girls out the window. Her bed was located less than a foot from the window sill. Smiling at the faint white spot moving across the open sky, she reached over and turned the lamp off.  
  
"Will you sing me to sleep?" The girl's voice came out softly as a small yawn escaped her with her drooping eyes. Reaching out, Faithe gently stroked her hair back on her head, smiling adoringly at Kaytlin. Looking back out the window, Faithe began to sing "When You Wish Upon A Star" softly, but audibly. Kaytlin had drifted off in almost no time, but Faithe continued to sit there. Humming the song, she continued to stroke the girl's light brown hair. Her eyes had drifted back up to Orlando's comet, a faint smile playing on her lips.  
  
Orlando's eyes wandered over Jake, and the man blushed slightly at the other's insinuation about himself and Faithe. That was good. The more he was around him, the more it seemed to Orlando that Jake wasn't reacting at all how himself would to his younger sister bringing her "boyfriend" up for the weekend. In fact, Jake was almost a little too okay with the whole situation, which unnerved Orlando a little bit, but, still, it was much preferred over the alternative. Eddie's name caused Orlando's eyebrows to furrow bitterly and a coldness to overtake his body, but only momentarily.  
  
Nodding in response to Jake's request, Orlando pulled himself up and moseyed over to where Faithe had just been, hoping that, somehow, he'd find his way to Kayte's bedroom without trying every door there was in the small loft. And, of course, he did, by following the beautiful sirens' song that was Faithe's voice.  
  
He didn't enter as she sang, but instead loitered casually just outside the door, looking in. Subconsciously, the image before his eyes was one of the mother of his child singing the small girl to sleep. Of course, he didn't quite realize that's what he was thinking as the smile tugged at the corner of his lips, pulling them into that characteristic grin.  
  
Once the vocal melody had melted into a hummed tune, and Faithe's eyes reverted to the sky, the man silently crept into the room, taking great care not to disturb neither Faithe nor Kaytlin. Making his way around the bed, he sleathily came up behind Faithe, gently wrapping his arms around her neck and laying his head upon her shoulder as he stood.  
  
Honestly, could he ask for anything more? His comet streaking across the nighttime sky, a beautiful, amazing woman in his arms. Perfection was attained.  
  
"You're an angel," he whispered into her ear, slowly guiding her up, off the bed, so that she stood in front of him, facing the stars and leaning against his chest.  
  
Lost in her own world, Faithe hadn't even had the slightest idea that Orlando was near her. When he wrapped his arms around her, a feeling of immediate serenity passed over her as a small, warm smile spread on her lips. Allowing herself to be lifted to her feet, she leaned against his body, her eyelids heavy with content. Keeping her eyes on the white star, her head tilted slightly as she relaxed against Orlando. Her breathing quickly beame in sync with his as her head very slightly rose and fell with his chest.  
  
"You're the answer to every star I have ever wished on." Whispering softly, Faithe slid her hand into his, intertwining her fingers in his. This fits...everything about it fits. Smiling softly, her eyes still remained halfway closed as she peered at the comet. Turning around, she slipped her arms around his neck loosely, a faint smile on her face. Standing up tip toe, she kissed him lightly before resettling at her normal stature.  
  
((Imagine feesable time slot here.))  
  
A small noise caught Faithe's attention from the door. Turning her head to see the cause of it, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as her eyes fell on Eddie. Leaning against the doorframe, an unnerving grin was spread over Eddie's handsome face. His green eyes were narrowed slightly as he gazed around the room. Taking a swig from a bottle he held in his hand, he cleared his throat.  
  
"Why's Kayte sleepin'? It's not that late." His words came out slightly slurred, and his voice was incredibly loud. So much for a peaceful evening.  
  
Though her words could have come from a cheap Hollywood script, given their inflection and the setting they were proclaimed in, they radiated nothing but sincerity in Orlando's mind. To any other, they would have appeared cheesy and ludicrious, but, to Orlando, they weren't. He understood her, and she understood him. The two needed not bother themselves with superfluous words- verbosity wasn't even remotely necessary to convey what they felt, for the looks in their eyes told all.It most certainly did just... "fit".  
  
Like the missing piece of a puzzle, Faithe's fingers entangled in his completed the man. Feeling her arms wind themselves around his neck gently, his stomach fluttered in anticipation of the kiss to come, and, when her lips did finally press against him, his own lips responded genuinely, matching her small passion with a light urgency as he wrapped his arms around her waist, momentarily lifting her off the ground. ((Run-on!!! Eep!)).  
  
((Yeah, so this next part is that "feasible time slot" insertation...))  
  
"Mmm..."  
  
His only verbal response for awhile was a quiet moan. Instead of speaking, he let his eyes convey his message to the young woman before him. The brilliant blue spheres shone luminously in the dark room, glowing with a sense of unsurpassable joy, contentment and a mixture of more than a hundred other feelings. The answer to every wish he had ever made on a star, the embodiment of every trait he'd ever longed for, the person who made him want to be a better man... There she was in his arms. For one silent, pensive moment, Orlando's eyes glazed over in thought. Seven months was quite a long time, indeed, he thought to himself, unsure of his next remark for a moment.  
  
Pulling his head back, his cocked it slightly, looking at her with a slightly inquisitive look upon his face. Moonlight waltzed upon her soft brown hair, and gave her skin a pristine glow. Unwrapping an arm from her waist, the man reached up an arm, stroking her cheek with the backside of his hand.  
  
"Je t'aime, ma Foi," he whispered, a hint of a smile dancing onto his face. "I love you, Faithe."  
  
((Insert time for Faithe's reply if you'd like, or just go onto the Eddie thing here))  
  
Hearing a noise, Orlando's head lost all sappy thoughts as it snapped towards the door. Immediately, he went on the defensive. His smile hardened into a straightface, his eyebrows furrowed and his brilliant blue eyes turned cold with bitterness. He didn't like this "Eddie" character much... Gently, but quickly, he pushed Faithe behind him, towards the wall, and closer to the sleeping Kaytlin, as he hastily walked towards Eddie, stopping about seven feet in front of him. The light from the hall hit his face eerily, giving the normally amiable man a threatening look to him as he loomed at 6'1".  
  
"Because five-year-olds go to sleep before ten o'clock at night," he replied matter-of-factly, staring down the drunken moron with an unfeeling glare as his hand felt its way into his pocket and his fingers wound themselves around the maplewood shaft of his wand. If Eddie was going to hurt Faithe or Kaytlin, even in the most minute of ways, it would be over Orlando's cold, dead body.  
  
The words that had come out of his mouth were still dancing around in her mind. Did he just...That's cute Faithe, now you're imagining things. No, you weren't. He really just said that he loves you. Her heart had skipped a beat, or two as she felt slightly shakey.  
  
Looking down at Kaytlin, Faithe let out a small sigh of relief to see that she was still sleeping. Noticing Orlando's hand slide into his pocket, a cold feeling settled over her. Eddie became absolutely insane with his magic when he was drunk, she'd seen it before. Stepping up quickly, having every desire to not let this get out of hand, Faithe placed her hand gently around Orlando's arm. Shaking her head, she gave him a pleading look. Turning back to Eddie, "Where's Jake?"  
  
"Walking in circles downstairs looking for me." Eddie laughed loudly and crudely, taking another swig from the bottle. In one quick motion, he threw the bottle, grinning as it busted on the wall next to Kayte's bed. Screaming, the little girl woke up in tears, terrified at whatever had jarred her from her sleep. In a few quick steps, Faithe had covered the distance between herself and Kaytlin.  
  
Sitting on the bed, Faithe gathered the crying five year old in her arms, "Shh...Kayte, it's alright." Talking softly, Faithe tried to calm her own shaking, oblivious to what was going on behind her.  
  
"I'll shut her up..." Pushing past Orlando quickly, the grin on Eddie's face had been replaced by a scowl as he walked towards the bed. Letting go of Kaytlin, Faithe stood up, her eyes narrowed at him. There was no way on God's green earth she would let him ever touch Kayte. Taking his arm, she tried to pull him towards the living room, "Eddie, leave her alone. Let's go into the living room."  
  
Had it been just about anybody else, Faithe would have pulled her wand on him, or let Orlando deal with him, but she knew how Eddie could be. He wouldn't forget this by the time he had sobered up, and she didn't have any desire to make him angrier than he had made himself... for Kayte's sake. Of course, Eddie didn't want to go into the living room. Grabbing the arm that she had wrapped around his, Eddie struck out, backhanding her before pushing her into Orlando.  
  
"No! She needs to learn that she has no right to cry at everything." Glaring at Faithe, Eddie pulled his own wand out of his pocket, his eyebrows furrowing together in a pensive stare. Faithe tried to regain her balance as she stumbled into Orlando, her arms instinctively finding his. Turning her head quickly, her eyes widened in terror as he saw Eddie advancing on the crying Kaytlin.  
  
And the plot thickened.  
  
Since the dawn of time, the males have been the dominant sex in all species- always defending their loved ones by whatever ever means they could. Just as protect their prides by physically attacking any unwelcome visitor, humans, for the most part, follow suit. However, Orlando wasn't exactly in prime physical condition to grapple with Eddie, or anyone else for that matter. Even if he had, it wasn't his realm. What he lacked in physical stamina, though, the man more than compensated for in intelligence- particularly, wizardry.  
  
Feeling Faithe's hand upon his sleeved arm, Orlando's eyes flitted to her momentarily, casting an inauspicious glare at her for bit. He could tell that she only wanted to protect Kaytlin, and he did as well, only, more than just that, he wanted to protect her. Magic was all he had on his side, other than sheer acumen, and he wasn't about to give it up. His erudition in the magical sphere was just about his only advantage against Eddie. Eyes uncharacteristically hardened with a bitterness found only in a ruthless soldier's face, Orlando merely stared at Faithe for a moment, refusing to relinquish his only tangible weapon against the force that was threatening both her and Kaytlin. Yet all that resistance melted at Faithe's pleading look, and his fingers loosened their grip around the wand, instead trying to gently, but sternly push her back. The effort was futile.  
  
As Eddie's cackle rang out through the quiet room, Orlando could see Faithe tense up, knowing that his own body was doing the same. The other man's grin was positively evil- and his face held the most malicious expression that Orlando had ever seen. If he had been a religious man, surely he would have seen Satan in the contemptuous fire Eddie's eyes held.  
  
He felt a jolt run through his body as the glass shattered on the wall. Exploding, its shards flew through the air, ornamenting the bedroom repugnantly. Instinctively, he nearly leapt towards Kaytlin, but Faithe was already there, cradling the child in her arms, though she herself was also quivering with fear. He moved to comfort her, only finding himself thrown up against the wall by Eddie.  
  
By the time Orlando had regained his balance and the pain in his back had subsided to a mere throbbing, Eddie's hand and slapped Faithe's face, sending her into his arms as he struggled to get up, and he was steadily approaching Kaytlin, wand in hand.  
  
The emotions that coursed through Orlando's veins in that moment were copious- too many too count: anger, frustration, fear, rage, guilt, and, above all, resentment. It was one thing for Eddie to assault him. The two were both men- equals- and though he didn't view women as weaker, his innate chivalrousness led him to the belief that women and children were not to be hit. It was like lighting a church afire while its parish was singing hymns- you just didn't do it. It was wrong and, above that, immoral.  
  
His arms wrapped themselves around Faithe for a mere moment, letting her know that he was there, before he gave her a communicative look- one that apologized for his next action.  
  
Leaning her against the other corner, away from Eddie, Orlando's hand reached into his pocket, summoning his wand into his fingertips and pointing it in Eddie's direction.  
  
"Expellarimus."  
  
Hoping that the simple spell worked, and that Eddie would be too drunk (or too stupid) to counter it in time, Orlando reached his arms around the man and picked Kayte up in his arms and quickly tossed her over to Faithe.  
  
"Get her out of here," he enjoined her in a serious tone.  
  
Urging her out of the room with a look as well as a slight tug on her arm, he reverted his attention to Eddie, still holding his wand in his hand, and ready for a duel.  
  
((I bought Angel Eyes today! **squeal** ))  
  
Faithe had been slightly unnerved by Orlando's less than pleasant glare he had given her, but none of that seemed to matter right now. As his arms wrapped themselves around her, she wanted nothing more than to stay in the protection of him, but she knew it wasn't possible. Watching him walk towards Eddie, her hand crept up to her throat, rubbing it nervously. Watching the spell hit him in the back hard, Faithe winced and looked away quickly for a moment before returning her stare.  
  
Eddie turned in time to slightly deflect the spell, but not avoid it completely. Hitting the ground, a small groan escaped his mouth. Opening his eyes, he watched, slightly dizzy, as Kaytlin was handed off to Faithe. Glaring, he rolled over on his stomach, his hand reaching for his wand. Standing up, his eyes narrowed in an angry glare. "Yeah Faithe, get her out of here," in a mocking tone, he wiped his mouth, his eyes never leaving Orlando.  
  
Picking Kaytlin up, Faithe held her tightly as the little girl wrapped her arms around her neck. Burying her head in Faithe's shoulder, she closed her eyes tightly. Putting a protective hand over the back of Kayte's head, she booked it towards the door. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was leave Orlando's side, but she knew she needed to get Kaytlin out of the room. Taking her to Jake's room, she sat down on the bed, cradling the five year old in her arms. Stroking her hair gently, she laid her down softly, pulling the covers up over her.  
  
"Kayte, I'm going to be right back, okay?" Talking softly, she leaned down and kissed the girl's forehead softly. Sniffling, Kayte nodded as she burrowed down deeper into the blankets. Walking into the hallway, Faithe closed the door gently, walking anxiously back to Kayte's room.  
  
Eddie had done nothing yet but stand there, trying to regain his balance. Entering the room, Faithe walked up behind Orlando and placed her hand gently on his back. Caught up in everything going on, she had completely dismissed the stinging in her cheek, but now she noticed the tingling sensation that was still there. Tugging on Orlando's sleeve, she gave him another pleading look, "Please, let's end this. He doesn't know what he's doing." Talking softly, Faithe rested her head against him lightly, her eyes never leaving Eddie.  
  
"I know exactly what I'm doing," muttering resentfully, Eddie glared even harder at Faithe, mainly at the fact that she was showing so much affection towards Orlando. "And I know exactly what I'm going to do..." Taking a step forward, Eddie raised his arm, wand poised to attack. However as soon as he opened his mouth, a figure shot past Orlando and Faithe as Jake grabbed the hand that held the wand in it.  
  
"Jake!" Calling out, Faithe took a step towards the two men, ready for an attempt to do something...anything.  
  
((I watched it!!! *squeals* In other news, this is the most overdramatic soap-opera-ish plot I've ever been involved in... *insert overdramatic music here* I love it! lol))  
  
Brilliant blue eyes looked on as the spell took its effect, knocking Eddie onto the ground, then darted to Faithe, watching her obey his command, picking up the tiny girl. Flitting his attention back to the man lying upon the ground, his fingers tightened around his wand in antipation of that to come as his eyes hardened to match the cold stare Eddie was giving him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Faithe scurrying out of the room with Kaytlin in her arms. The ground was evened now. With the woman and child safe outside of the door, it was one-on-one. Swallowing the fear that was creeping up his throat, Orlando took a step backwards and raised his wand up in front of his chest. En garde...  
  
All the spells, incantations and charms that he had learned throughout his seven years of schooling, and twenty-one years as a wizard, seemed to have disappeared from his memory... at least all the spells which may have proved themselves useful. Then again, as the two men stood there, the moment held an eerie serenity. The serenity was fragile, though, like a tiny glass figure held in mid-air only by the thick tension that filled the air- so thick it was that one could cut it with a knife. Not daring to breathe, Orlando just stood there, threatening with his eyes, but not moving a muscle. If there were to be a duel, he wouldn't be the one to begin it.  
  
Faithe's hand may have startled him had he not had the divination ability to know it was her. Some of the tension in his back released itself, but that was the only sign that he had noticed her presence. He couldn't just turn around and take her into his arms; doing so would put the both of them in danger. Eddie was truly insane, and there was no telling what he would do. His intimidating glare never wavered as Faithe tugged at his sleeve, or as she laid her head against him. End it? And how exactly was he supposed to do that?  
  
Since the dawn of time, battles have always been fought by two parties: the right and the wrong; the aggressor and the defender. The right, the defender, is only fighting to save something, whereas the wrong, the aggressor, fights just to fight. The defender is fueled by a longing, a need to protect something, to preserve and to help; the aggressor is fueled only by a blinding, furious, passionate rage to gain something. He alone is the one who can decide to what extent the battle will pass, for it is he that will either cease or continue fighting. Orlando was the defender. There was nothing he could do to stop it.  
  
His right arm found its way around Faithe's waist, gently pushing her completely behind his back, while his left remained poised, wand between his fingers. Gaze still unwavering, his hand ran up and down her back slowly, trying as best he could to calm her, and, more than that, to keep her behind him.  
  
Eddie's words echoed through the man's head, and Orlando knew exactly what Eddie was going to do: "Avada Kedavra".It was amazing was jealousy could drive someone to. Verbal insults, physical abuse... murder. Gnawing nervously on his tongue, he raised his head defiantly- ready to counter anything the other man would throw at him. Before Eddie could utter a word though, a figure flew out of nowhere at him, preventing such: Jake.  
  
Everything happened in a flash. Jake's hand grabbed Eddie's, deflecting the wand's aim and temporarily disorienting Eddie, Faithe jumped out from behind Orlando, stepping towards the action, and Orlando found himself simply stunned for an instant. The only thing he had the conscious to do in that moment was reach out and fling his hand around Faithe's waist once more, pulling her back to him. This time,, however, he didn't push her behind him; instead, he pulled her close to his chest, angling himself so that, though she was in front of him, she was directed towards the door, in the case that something should come to pass.  
  
It's said that when one is faced with an overwhelmingly dangerous situation, their perception of time becomes skewed. Events pass slowly, and it may take an hour for someone's eyes to blink in their mind, yet only a fraction of a second in reality. Orlando was caught in that state of mind at the time- everything was in slow motion.  
  
His eyes blinked as they moved from Faithe, to Eddie, and then to Jake; a breath escaped his parted lips; and then his head cocked. He glanced at the wand in his hand, and his mind flooded with the voice of old Mr. VanExienne, the man who had lived next to him as a child. Many nights had Orlando sat upon his roof, gazing at the stars, hearing VanExienne's voice carrying through the night's silence as he coached his midnight dueling club, telling them of the combinations of spells they should use to defend themselves, in a manner that made the wizardry seem like a dance. Though Orlando had never been one to enjoy the thought of dueling, he had always found himself listening to VanExienne's words, and, now, that curiosity had paid off. It was all drawn out for him, now, like one of those old dance mats, with the numbered feet. Nodding to himself, a surreal sense of confidence and calm flowed through him. He pointed the wand at Eddie, looking over Faithe's shoulder and casually brushing his cheek against her head.  
  
" Expelliarmus," he said again, revisiting the spell chain he had tried to perform earlier. Seeing Jake's hand upon Eddie's, he cringed inwardly, hoping that the spell wouldn't hurt him too badly.  
  
Once Eddie's wand was out of his grasp, Orlando uttered another word, summoning the abandoned wand to his right hand:  
  
"Accio."  
  
Now, what really needed to happen was for Orlando to cast a sobering spell on Eddie, but, to his knowledge, there wasn't anything of the sort. He did need to somehow immobilize Eddie, though. Maybe knocking him out? Well, that would have worked. had Orlando been the type to punch someone. Mentally sighing with frustration, he reluctantly continued on with the defensive tactic.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus."  
  
It was all he could do. Now it was up to Jake to deal with him.  
  
The shock from dueling had overcome Orlando, now. Arm still around Faithe, his face became vacant. He had never done anything like that before, and, now, that there was a pause in the endless action, he found himself at a sort of loss for emotion, thought and words.  
  
((And here concludes another overdramatic, soap-opera post brought to you by the one and only Lina))  
  
((Answer me this though, when Catch started crying at the end, were you not seeing Orlando cry, rather than Catch?))  
  
Trying her best to wriggle out of Orlando's grasp, a small squeal escaped her mouth as she struggled against his hold. Giving up, she whipped her head around, her eyes staring intently at the fray. Despite the comfort his arms normally brought her, watching her brother and Eddie, Faithe's shaking wouldn't cease.  
  
Hearing Orlando's voice, Jake turned his head slightly. Dodging the spells, Jake crouched down, allowing the full force to hit Eddie. Closing his eyes as Eddie's body turned rigid, he took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Eddie had never gotten this far out of control, and he hated to see it every time it happened. Though he didn't agree with a lot of the man's mind sets about issues, like Faithe, Jake knew Eddie really wasn't a bad guy. He had only ever gotten drunk twice before, but both times he had turned into a rampaging lunatic.  
  
Pulling away from Orlando, Faithe practically flew to Jake, wrapping her arms around him tightly. The weight of his sister caused him to fall the rest of the way down to the ground. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, Jake shot Orlando a look filled with gratitude and respect.  
  
Pulling back slightly, he stood up, pulling Faithe with him. Turning his eyes on her, they narrowed slightly. Reaching up, he tilted her head slightly to the side, noticing the red spot about the size of a hand on her cheek. "Did he hit you?" Keeping her silence, Faithe simply looked up at him in a silent answer. Honestly, she had completely forgotten about it until Jake mentioned anything.  
  
Her thoughts and emotions had been completely wrapped up in the 'here and now' of everything. She was angry at herself for bringing Orlando into all of this. She should have made sure Eddie wouldn't have come around.  
  
"I'm going to take him to his apartment." Sighing, Jake turned towards the frozen image of Eddie. "I'll be back in about five minutes, if you wouldn't mind waiting here with Kaytlin." Nodding, Faithe looked at him with a rather apprehensive look. Squeezing one of his sister's hands, he gave her a reassuring look. "It'll be fine."  
  
Watching Jake apparate with Eddie, Faithe let out one long breath, her body seeming to deflate as the air left her. Turning around, she looked at Orlando with an apologetic look. She didn't know what to say, or what to do, so she did nothing. Her body felt immobile, her mind numb from everything that had just happened. There were certain aspects of her life that she had wanted to keep in a closet, hidden from Orlando. Not because she didn't trust him, because Faithe knew she could trust him with anything, but because she simply didn't want to introduce him to the drama in her life.  
  
((Completely))  
  
Pensively vacant, ambiguous blue eyes held a blank look in them as they surveyed the wand still enclosed between his fingers. So entranced was he by the sight of something so powerful, that his arm didn't even offer the least bit of resistance as Faithe moved towards Jake. Never in his life had Orlando ever used a spell against another being before. To him, magic was a gift to use for good, and inflicting pain upon others definitely wasn't in the good book. Though he hadn't even hurt Eddie, his conscious still plagued him. He was lost. Like a soldier who had just killed his first enemy, Orlando felt a burst of pride in his accomplishment, but that pride was accompanied by guilt, remorse and shame. But, he reminded himself, as Jake's thankful gaze crept into his field of vision, everyone was safe because of him- Faithe was safe because of him- and that had to count for something.  
  
Ever inane, his eyes looked on as Faithe held Jake tightly, as he pointed out the mark Eddie's malevolent hand had left upon her innocent cheek, and as Jake apparated out with Eddie. Though his face was empty, his mind was filled with thoughts, not about how the evening was ruined, but about how heinous and unfair it was for someone like Faithe, or Kaytlin, or Jake, to have to deal with something like this, and how right he had been about Eddie. Now the man was beginning to question the situation further, wondering what type of person, exactly, "Eddie" was, and, if he really was as bad as he seemed, how Jake could possibly work so closely with him?  
  
Returning to reality, his eyes met those of Faithe's. How sorrowful those brown eyes of hers looked. Glancing up at her, his head cocked to the side, and he bit his lip. Just how anyone could hurt someone like Eddie had just hurt her was beyond him. Letting his Maplewood wand fall to the ground, he slowly took a few steps towards her, and, as he walked, eyes locked into hers, the vagueness of his gaze melted into empathy. Reaching up his hand, he ran his fingers gently across her cheek, feeling the burning sensation that remained there from Eddie's hand. His eyes cast themselves downward for a moment in regret, as though he should have been able to do something to stop Eddie from doing that, and then flitted back up to meet hers. Sliding both his hands around the back of her head, he gently kissed her forehead before laying his forehead against hers and letting out a small breath.  
  
"It's over, ma Foi," he whispered, "You're alright, now."  
  
Letting his hands go down her back, he pulled her into a close embrace, holding her tightly against his body, and laid her head upon his chest/shoulder. He would have liked to have stayed there forever, but there was more that had to be done.  
  
"I'll be right back," he murmured, giving her one last squeeze before slithering out of the embrace and walking out of the room.  
  
Glancing around, he saw a slightly open door, and walked someone intently towards it. Gently pushing it open, his eyes darted to the tiny Kaytlin, presumably still where Faithe had left her, on the bed.  
  
"Hey," he said quietly, sitting down on the bed and scooping the girl tenderly into his lap with his arms, "Everything's okay now, Kayte."  
  
Slowly, he slid off the bed, cradling the girl securely in his arms as he brought her back into her own bedroom. Casting a glance at Faithe, he moved to hand Kaytlin to her. They needed each other right then.  
  
((That last bit was kinda god-modey.lemme know if I should change it or cut it out.))  
  
Feeling his hand run across her cheek, Faithe closed her eyes, fighting the tears that had suddenly decided to try and come out. Opening her eyes as his forehead rested on hers, her brown eyes sought out Orlando's brilliant blue orbs. "I'm fine," whispering, she reached up and placed her hand on top of one of his. Feeling his arms wrap around her, Faithe allowed herself to be drawn into the sanctuary of his arms. Still shaking, she buried her head in his chest, her eyes closing once more. A small noise of protest escaped her as he pulled back, but she let him go.  
  
Kaytlin was startled when Orlando walked in, but relaxed when he picked her up. Burying her head in his chest, just like Faithe had done, she reached up and wiped away a tear. Giving Orlando a look of gratitude, Faithe took Kayte in her arms, hugging her tightly. Wrapping her small arms around Faithe's neck, Kaytlin pulled her head back to look at her aunt.  
  
"Where's Daddy?" Her voice coming out shakey and slightly pouty, Kayte continued to wipe tears away. Reaching up, Faithe smoothed her hair out of the girl's face, wiping a tear while she was at it. Walking towards the door, she motioned for Orlando to follow her.  
  
"He's taking Eddie home. He'll be home soon." Walking back into Jake's room, she laid Kayte down on the bed, covering her up with the blanket. The mess that Eddie made would definitely need to be cleaned up before Kayte could go back in there. Laying down next to her, Faithe reached up and stroked the girl's dark brown hair gently, trying to ease her back to sleep.  
  
Kayte snuggled up next to Faithe, burying her face into Faithe's shoulder. Turning her head slightly, she reached up her hand, squeezing Orlando's affectionately. Offering him a silent invitation to sit down, Faithe turned her gaze back to Kaytlin, who was mostly asleep.  
  
((Insert feasible time here.))  
  
Not too long afterwards, Jake walked quietly into the room. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his eyes stared at Faithe and Kaytlin as he bit his bottom lip. Turning her eyes to her brother, Faithe gave him a reassuring look. Swalloweing hard, Jake looked down for a moment before looking back up, "Is she alright?"  
  
Nodding silently, Faithe looked down at the now sleeping girl, afraid to breath too deeply for fear of waking her. Scooting closer to her, Jake laid a hand on Faithe's arm, "Are you alright?" Nodding again, she turned her body slightly, but not enough to disturb the girl.  
  
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken up. That wasn't Eddie." Sighing, her eyes averted to Orlando. Standing, Jake laid a hand on Orlando's shoulder, "Before you two leave, will you come help me clean up the mess in Kayte's room?"  
  
Walking down the hall, Jake closed the door as he flipped on the light switch. Turning to Orlando, his eyes held that same look of utmost gratitude. "Thank you...for everything you did tonight. I'm sorry you were brought into all of this Orlando. I don't know what would have happened had you not been here...I don't even want to think about it." Sticking out his hand, there was a meaningful expression of respect in his eyes, "Anytime you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."  
  
Following Faithe into Jake's room in silence, Orlando took a seat next to her upon the bed, wrapping an arm around her and running his hand up and down her arm softly as his eyes bid a silent "good-night" to Kayte. The ordeal that the young girl had just gone through was much too intense for someone of such a young age. In fact, it was a little too much for someone of his own age.  
  
Flitting his eyes up as Jake walked into the room, Orlando nodded his head in acknowledgement of his arrival. Silent as the siblings spoke, he reluctantly followed Jake into Kayte's room. His eyes surveyed the monstrosity's effects, and he let out a sigh. Quietly, he bent down and retrieved his abandoned wand, which lay cast upon the floor; the room would be fixed quicker with magic.  
  
Hearing Jake begin to speak, he rose back up to his full height and nodded, shaking his head a bit. Modesty was always something that he had excelled at, namely because he saw no real reason to boast. Boasting brought fans, and all he desired was respect, which was brought on by simply being a respectable person. His cheeks grew warm with a slight blush at Jake's words, and he shook his head again.  
  
"Don't be sorry," he replied, shaking Jake's hand strongly, "There's nothing that you're at fault for here.  
  
"And don't thank me, either," he added with another nod of his head, "I didn't do anything worthy of gratitude."  
  
"Swish-and-flick"ing his wand, while saying a quick spell, the room returned to its normal state. Or, at least, as close as magic could get it to such.  
  
"Thank you, though," he replied after a moment, not wanting Jake to think he didn't appreciate the man's last remark. "That means a lot.  
  
"I think I'm going to take Faithe back to the hotel now, though. Good night, Jake..."  
  
Nodding once more, he retreated to Jake's bedroom and put his hands on the bed, leaning down to whisper into Faithe's ear.  
  
"Let's get going..."  
  
Gently lifting her arm off of Kaytlin, Orlando somehow slid his arms beneath her and rolled Faithe into his arms. Standing up, he bent down to kiss Kaytlin's forehead.  
  
"Bonne nûit, ma petite cherie," he whispered, "Bon rêves..."  
  
Holding Faithe close against him, he shut his eyes tightly, apparating them both back to their hotel room. Setting her down, gently, upon the ground, he held her tightly in his embrace once again, leaning his forehead against hers.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Faithe..." he said quietly, as though he was somehow at fault for Eddie's behavior, "Are you alright? Truly, are you? Because I know I wouldn't be... What can I do to make things better?"  
  
His voice held a childlike innocence to it, asking a hundred questions, and it was complemented by a pair of angel eyes, filled with nothing but sincere concern, gazing into her brown ones.  
  
Allowing herself to be lifted into Orlando's arms, Faithe wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she buried her head in his neck, the familiar feeling of apparating causing her stomach to jolt slightly. Or maybe it was just nerves. Feeling her feet touch the ground, she opened her eyes to look in his. Shaking her head at his apologies, she held up her hand, placing her middle and index finger on his lips.  
  
"Orlando, I'm fine, really." Talking softly, she placed her hand gently on his cheek, her hand moving up to his hair. Intertwining a small strand of hair in between her fingers, an action that was becoming almost habitual to her, Faithe kissed him lightly. "It scared me, because that's not how Eddie normally acts. He's never done anything even close to that, but I was more worried about Kaytlin."  
  
Looking at him intently, her eyes peered intently into his. "This really shook you up, didn't it." It wasn't a question, or an accusation, only an understood fact. She had never seen the expression in the man's eyes that had been radiating back at the apartment. That emptiness. It scared her coming from him.  
  
"No apologies. You couldn't have prevented what happened tonight Orlando." Her voice still soft, her hand slid back down to his cheek and slowly drifted to the back of his neck. Running her fingers lightly, her gaze never left his. "What happened?"  
  
Leaning his cheek into her hand, Orlando's blue eyes shut themselves. There was something about Faithe's touch that calmed him- brought serenity to him. Re-opening his eyes after she had kissed him (though he had not returned it), his vacant stare returned as he listened to her speak.  
  
Not how Eddie acts... hmph. Like hell... Anyone who would ever hit a woman or threaten a child deserved no excuses, no sympathy and no pity. Doing something like that wasn't ever a one-time thing, it was caused by something wrong with them internally. If Eddie would let himself act that way, then he was that way. It wasn't like a light switch or anything, that glowed warm until the circuit breaker was unexpectantly tripped. The malice that Eddie had shown was innate, and it terrified Orlando.  
  
Though he felt her eyes staring into his, Orlando's eyes failed to yield any sort of response, though he did offer her a small nod as he swallowed. She couldn't possibly understand just how much Eddie's behavior had gotten to him. After all, she didn't know his past. She hadn't a clue what growing up was like for him. The sight of Eddie's evil grin, the sound of his booming, thunderous cackle, and the looming shadow he cast over Kaytlin's tiny, quiverring body had brought terrible flashbacks into the man's mind. Though they hadn't struck him then, they were beginning to haunt him at the moment. Free from immediate danger, his mind had begun wandering.  
  
He turned his eyes away from her, not that it mattered, though, for, even when his eyes were facing hers, he was still distant. His arms fell loosely around her waist, losing the firm grip they had held upon her. His lips parted, and a small breath escaped them.  
  
Lost in the past, Orlando didn't hear her words, only the voices of his parents yelling at him, telling him he was an embarassment to their family, that he would never amount to anything, and all sorts of other cruel things. Swallowing, he brought a hand up to his face, touching his cheek; he could almost feel his father's fist crashing into it, and almost hear the deafening crunch of the bone as it split in two.  
  
Letting his hand drop, his fingers slowly slid off of his face, closing into a loose fist, which he placed upon his collarbone, which had been broken when he was nine, running his fingers across it. Hesitantly, he flitted his gaze back to Faithe, shaking his head. This was too much.  
  
He opened his lips to say something, but no words came out, only a mournful, choking sort of gasp. Clearing his throat, he tried again, speaking nearly inaudibly.  
  
"Nothing..."  
  
If there was any one person in the world he could trust, it would have been Faithe. But, just as she didn't want him involved in certain parts of her life, he wanted to protect her from aspects of his own past, this being the most prominent one. In spite of that, one audible word escaped his lips.  
  
"Everything..."  
  
His eyes lit up for a moment, not with happiness, but with sorrow and reality.  
  
"Hell..."  
  
Breaking free from her embrace, he put his hands in his pockets and shook his head, the vacant expression returning once more, though tears now flooded his eyes. He walked towards the window, gazing out into the darkness with a face whose blankness matched that of the nighttime sky.  
  
She felt unnerved as his arms slid away from her. This was not how Orlando normally acted. The lack of feeling and emotion in his blue eyes brought a tense feeling in her body that she wasn't used to feeling with him. Watching him touch his cheek and his coller bone, a cold chill settled over Faithe as his voice choked out.  
  
Slightly shocked at his third choice of word, Faithe watched him walk to the window. Knowing she was on dangerous ground, she walked over to him, stepping in front of him. Reaching up, she averted his face to look at her own, her own eyes glazed over with tears. Of all people in this world, seeing Orlando in this state broke Faithe's heart more than anybody else. Stroking his cheek gently, her eyes searched his face for some sign other than vacancy. As one small tear fell, she reached up and wiped it away gently.  
  
"Talk to me sweetheart. Please." Speaking softly, her voice was filled with pain; pain that was brought on by seeing the man that she loved more than life itself hurting. She would have given anything in the world to spare him the emotions he was feeling.  
  
"What is it?" Almost whispering, Faithe reached down and took his hand with her other hand. Squeezing it tightly, she brought it up, laying it on her chest, over her heart. Covering his hand with hers, her gaze never faultered, never moved from his empty expression.  
  
Feeling her fingertips gently waltz upon his face, Orlando's head tilted into her hand, and he closed his eyes, blinking back tears. He was causing her pain- the very thing he had tried to prevent her from experiencing not only earlier that evening, but since the day he had met her. Perhaps it was just part of his innate male dominance, but Orlando had always been someone like that- someone who wanted to protect everyone from all the bad things in the world- and now, here he was, causing pain to the woman he cared most about in the world.  
  
Letting her take his hand in hers, his fingers entangled themselves with hers as she placed his hand over her heart, showing the slightest bit of gratitude in regards to her gesture. Closing his eyes, he sighed. He didn't want to cause her anymore grief, but, in some way, he needed to tell her. He hadn't told anyone before, not even Demeter. He hadn't trusted anyone so completely before, either, though.  
  
"Hell," he repeated quietly, relinquishing his hand from her grasp and sinking to the ground, along the wall. The tears that had been welling in his eyes were now streaming down his face, and his speech was disrupted by quiet gasps.  
  
"Seeing Eddie like that." he began, diverting his gaze to the window. Pausing, he shook his head, not liking the way he had begun the story.  
  
"I've seen more things in my life than you could possibly imagine. You say that your relationship with your parents isn't a good one, but mine. It's worse."  
  
No, that wasn't any good either. Clearing his throat, he struggled to prevent himself from crying, futilely, of course.  
  
"Remember when you asked me why I became an astronomy professor and I dodged the question a few times before finally giving you an answer? Well, that wasn't the real answer." He paused, looking up at her for a moment before diverting his gaze and continuing.  
  
"I became an astronomy professor because the stars were the only things in this world that offered me peace. Every night, when I was younger, I would lie out on the roof and stare up at the stars. Looking at them, the welts on my back wouldn't seem to burn so badly, and the blood coming out of my nose would kind of stop. Entranced by the heavens, my black eye wouldn't throb, and my broken jaw wouldn't ache."  
  
By this point, the man had completely broken down, sobbing and choking on his tears.  
  
"I wasn't like the rest of my family, and my father made sure I knew it."  
  
There, it was done.  
  
Pulling his knees up into his chest, Orlando buried his face in them, covering his eyes with his hands, looking like the little boy he had been so many years ago. He hadn't ever discussed his childhood with anyone, and, now, all that pent-up frustration, fear and emotion was exposed and released in the form of sobs and shaking.  
  
Watching his body fall to the ground in a sitting position, Faithe had to fight every ounce of her being to keep herself from going to him. She didn't want to cause anything that might make him stop talking. Listening to his words, her eyes' tears spilled over her cheeks as her hand fidgeted with the star around her neck. Biting her bottom lip, Faithe's teary brown eyes remained on Orlando's crumpled figure on the floor.  
  
As he balled up on the ground, Faithe couldn't stand it anymore. Walking to him quickly, she sat down next to him. Wrapping her arms around his trembling body, she pulled him towards her, cradling him as best as she could. "Honey..." Whispering, she wrapped her hand around his head, stroking his hair gently. Kissing the top of his head, she closed her eyes as two silent tears slipped down her cheek.  
  
"You aren't alone, baby," Talking softly, she continued to hold him in a tight embrace, her hand still stroking his hair softly. Her heart was breaking at the sight of Orlando like this, but there was a strength inside of her that she had never felt before. They say that when a mother sees her child in danger, she has unsurpassable strength to make sure that child is safe. With every ounce of passion in her body, Faithe had gotten that strength to keep her emotions in tact, knowing it wouldn't do Orlando any good if she lost it as well.  
  
The thought of somebody hurting him was almost inconceivable to her. "Look at me," swallowing hard, she reached down and lifted his chin slightly, forcing his eyes on her. He was such a beautiful person - he didn't deserve this.  
  
"Orlando, you are an amazing person, a talented teacher, and a gifted astronomer." Speaking with some difficulty, the tears that were glazing over her brown eyes remained in her eyes, thankfully. "I can't imagine how much torment they put you through, and I'm not going to pretend that I do. I know what it's like to be shunned because you're different, but I've never been through anything to that degree." Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand across his cheek, wiping away the tears that had stained his cheeks, though she wasn't sure any of it would make a difference.  
  
"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met in my life, and if they couldn't, or wouldn't see that, then it's their loss. Nobody deserves that kind of treatment, least of all you. You were given trials and tribulations, and you overcame them and made a life for yourself that is worth something." Letting go of his chin, she slid her hand up to his other cheek, now cupping his face in both her hands. Her body was trembling, but she managed to keep her voice under control. Resting her forehead on his, she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Opening her brown eyes, she searched his face.  
  
"I can't say anything to wipe away your pain, Orlando, and chances are that pain is never going to go away. I would give the world to take this burden away from you." Finding it more and more difficult to keep her emotions in check, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. "What they did wasn't your fault," recollecting that look of guilt she had seen on his face, Faithe spoke to him softly. "How Eddie acted tonight wasn't your fault...it was mine. Now I know why you were so adamant about protecting Kaytlin." Pulling back, she intertwined her fingers in his, pulling his hand to her chest. Wrapping her other hand around their hands, she held one of his hands in both of hers.  
  
"I love you so much."  
  
((Alright, alright...This post broke me. LOL I had it planned for the next night, but this seems to fit much more. ))  
  
((Gah, I'm sobbing. That was beautiful, sweetie. In other news, now that I'm fully awake, I'd like to apologize for my last post's crappiness. I mean, seriously, way to downplay a crucial moment- I suck. Anyways, here's an attempt at redemption.))  
  
Cowering in the fetal position, Orlando's sobs continued to rattle his full- grown body, transforming the strong, confident, and able man into a weak, scared, and powerless boy. That was the sort of effect fear could have on someone. Though the danger was no longer there, and would never be again, the trauma of the memories was too much for him to bear at the moment. Like a soldier with PTSD, the memories played their painful flashbacks on the movie screen in his mind, haunting him with visions of his mother's disappointed face as she would furrow her eyebrows and cross her arms over her chest, waiting impatiently for him to get inside after a day at school. He'd hurry up the rest of the stairway, stumbling upon the top step and tumbling onto the ground, backpack spilling over the porch. He'd apologize and quickly gather his things, but it would make no difference. Silently walking into the house, the door would close and an eerie darkness, at four in the afternoon on the island of Hawaii, would ensue.  
  
Hearing booming footsteps gradually grow louder as their maker approached, the young boy would begin trembling as he merely stood in the foyer, awaiting their arrival. Feeling a 6' 6" figure cast its shadow upon him, the boy's brilliantly blue eyes would fall towards the ground, and his teeth would begin gnawing on his tongue, half because it had become a nervous habit and half in an attempt to ease himself into enduring pain. Maybe if he bit his tongue hard enough, he wouldn't feel any other pain that night.  
  
After his father was satisfied, he would leave, and the boy would scamper upstairs as best he could, trying to keep the blood, which flowed freely from his nose, in his hand so that he wouldn't have to clean up the mess the next morning and be punished for that as well. Reaching his room, he would push the door open and hobble towards the window, pushing it open, and somehow lifting himself out, over the windowsill and laying him shattered body upon the cool roof.  
  
His eyes would close for a moment, and he would begin to breathe again, shakily, though, for the pains he felt with each breath were excruciating. Opening his eyes, he would look up at the Heavens, and find himself at peace. The stars' beauty would entrance his mind, putting all thoughts of hurting in the back of his mind. It was there that he would eventually fall asleep, only to be woken the next morning by the warmth of the sun rising on his face, and begin another day.  
  
The vacant expression had returned to Orlando's face once more, humanized only by the tears that slid down it. His teeth had begun gnawing intensely upon his tongue, and he continued to shake. As Faithe's arms wound themselves around him, his body failed to respond for a moment, as though he was trying not to involve her in it, or maybe because, so caught up in recollections, he didn't notice. Yet, soon, he did feel her hand stroking his hair, her lips upon his head, and her arms around him. Uncovering his face, his body shifted entirely, and his arms wrapped themselves around Faithe, clinging to her almost desperately as he sobbed into her shoulder.  
  
Letting her lift his head to face her, the vacant expression remained on his face as he listened to her words. So beautiful, so kind, and so compassionate were they, that he couldn't possibly have deserved them. Closing his eyes as she wiped away a few tears, which were soon replaced with new ones, his sobbing ceased, though tears still flowed freely from his eyes.  
  
His eyes remained closed as she leant her forehead against his, and his arms still clung to her urgently. Yes, her words were nice, but, to one who has experienced such an inexplicable amount of pain, words could only do so much to relieve it. Nothing Faithe could say would be able to take away that pain, and she knew it, but what she had said did begin to chip away at the blame Orlando had cast upon himself all those years ago. Perhaps it's just an aspect of human nature, but whenever a person is hurt, they tend to blame themselves, maybe trying to see the good in others, and, instead of believing that the world is full of bad people, that they had deserved whatever had happened to them.  
  
"What they did wasn't your fault."  
  
Faithe's soft declaration resonated through his mind, yet the man couldn't possibly believe it. Shaking his head, he silently negated the fact. At her next comment, however, he spoke.  
  
"You didn't ask for it; it wasn't anyone's fault except his," he said quietly, though completely sternly.  
  
As she entangled his fingers with her own, his mien softened, and another few tears dripped down his cheeks as his watery eyes followed his hand to her chest. At her voice, his eyes flitted up to meet her gaze. Just as she was, Orlando had been too caught up with the Eddie ordeal at Jake's house to concern himself with matters of professing love, yet, now, in the safe double penthouse of the hotel, in each other's arms, the man recalled the earlier events of the evening, one, in particular, of course. Slowly, a small, grateful, poignant smile appeared upon his face, and an eloquent sort of look took over his ever-watering eyes, though, this time, the tears that fell weren't tears of fear or sorrow.  
  
Taking his free hand, he slowly placed it behind her neck and gently pulled her head towards his own, kissing her lips softly as his other hand squeezed hers.  
  
"Et je t'aime aussi, ma chere, belle, brille Foi," he whispered, lying his forehead against hers, speaking in French just because the words flowed more elegantly.  
  
"And I love you, my darling, beautiful, brilliant Faithe."  
  
((Eh, it's not complete redemption, but it's a start. Maybe a 1.7 on the suck-o-meter?))  
  
Feeling his arms wrap around her, Faithe closed her eyes. Seeing him so out of control broke her heart more than she ever would have thought imagineable. When he shook his head to what she had said, she cupped his face a little bit firmer, but not in an evasive fashion.  
  
"No, don't shake your head." There was a soft firmness to her voice as her eyes stared intently at him. "Orlando, you aren't at fault for how they treated you anymore than Kaytlin was at fault last night. You were a child. All you ever did was exist, and if they found fault in that, screw them. Screw them all. They aren't worth your time, Orlando." There was a hint of anger in her voice. She was angry.  
  
Angry at the family who had made this wonderful man feel so incompetent. Angry that they had manipulated his mind into thinking he was less than he truly was. Sighing, her facial features relaxed as the tiny smile shone through on his face. Reaching up as she felt his hand behind her neck, she gently stroked his cheek, wiping away the wet streams that cascaded down his cheek.  
  
"I'm not brilliant, no where close." Forcing a small smile, "Certainly nowhere close to beautiful." Returning the pressure in his hand, she closed her eyes as her forehead moved to his cheek. Kissing his jawline softly, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck.  
  
"Don't ever let anybody make you feel like you're less than you are Orlando." Looking back up, she brought one of her hands down to his opposite cheek. Running her hand gingerly across his cheek bone, she slid it up to his hairline, running her middle finger through his hair. "There aren't enough words in any language to even begin to express how amazing you are."  
  
((This is definately a 10 on the Suck-o-Meter.))  
  
((I'll apologize in advance for this post. I haven't even begun writing it, but I know it's going to be bad. I've drained my allotted daily creativity on the Demeter post and the one before this. *sighs* Ah, well, I'll do what I can, honey.))  
  
Faithe didn't understand. She couldn't understand. After all, who could possibly imagine what goes through the mind of a victim of child abuse if one had never experienced the sort? The fear, the desperate longing to redeem oneself, to perform some act of penance to rectify whatever sins they had committed. Surely he had to have done something more than merely exist to have been punished that way. Sighing, Orlando took a deep breath and nodded his head once more, this time, though, he wasn't completely negating Faithe's statement. She was beginning to get through to him.  
  
Shaking his head and almost laughing, he closed his eyes. 'No where close to brilliant nor beautiful'? Such a lie that was. Although Faithe's beauty wasn't the type that would win her the Miss America pageant, it was an admirable sort. Physically, she was pretty, but it was her mannerisms, her personality and her sheer being that gave her the splendor Orlando considered beautiful.  
  
"Can't you ever just say 'thank you' when someone compliments you?" he asked quietly, making a reference to that night he had brought her up to the Heavens on his old broomstick. Smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the sorrow completely vanished from his eyes.  
  
That was how he was- after recounting some tragic event, Orlando would simply close the door on it. Just like that morning he had told her of Demeter, Orlando was now seemingly "over" the entire ordeal. He had told Faithe what he had needed to tell her, and, now that she knew, there was no need to explore the situation any deeper. After all, he wasn't planning on interacting with his family anytime soon. It was over, all that was left was the mark the trauma had left on him, and, like a tangible wound, there was no need to scrape off the scab and re-open it once it had started healing.  
  
As her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, Orlando's encircled her waist, holding her securely in an embrace.  
  
"Thank you," he replied, after a moment of silence.  
  
Grinning, she wrinkled her nose slightly, "I do say thank you when I feel I deserve a compliment." Sticking her tongue out, she touched the tip of his nose with the tip of her tongue. Her mischevious, playful grin was replaced with a warm, affection expression. "Thank you for trusting me enough to talk to me about something like that." Reaching up, she wiped away the remainder of the tear streaks.  
  
Standing up, she grabbed his hands. "I'm going to go change. There's only so long I can handle wearing a skirt." Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him before she went off to her room; however, this kiss wasn't one of those little pecks they had been sharing throughout the evening. Smiling, she squeezed his hands before letting go and pulling back from him. Winking, she walked to her room, shutting the door behind her.  
  
Walking in, she sat down on the edge of her bed, kicking off her shoes. Allowing her body to fall backwards on the bed, she allowed a loud sigh escape her lips. Life always had a way of treating the best of people in the worst ways. Orlando didn't deserve what had happened to him, and she would have given anything to be able to wipe away the pain his experiences had instilled in his mind and heart.  
  
Standing up, she changed quickly into a pair of red capri pajama pants and a white tank top. Walking into her bathroom, she pulled her hair up in a ponytail. Turning her head slightly, she breathed a sigh of relief that there was no last impression from where Eddie had hit her. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she pulled her hair back down and ran a brush through it quickly.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the sitting area. Looking around, she noticed Orlando's door closed, signaling he hadn't come back out. Walking up to the door, she tapped on it lightly before opening it. He should be done changing...Please let him be done changing. Biting her bottom lip, she walked in. Plopping down on the bed, she fell back on one of the pillows.  
  
"How long is your comet going to be visible?"  
  
At the feeling of Faithe's tongue upon his nose, Orlando's boyish grin reappeared after a temporary sabbatical. Rather than say anything in response to her last comment, because doing so would reopen the door of emotions that he was fighting to keep shut. Instead, he nodded and pursed his lips together, silently thanking her for being someone he could trust like that as she cleared the remaining tears off of his face.  
  
Letting her kind of pull him off the ground, he entangled his fingers with hers and laughed at her skirt remark.  
  
"But you look so nice in it," he protested with a wink.  
  
Wrapping his arms around her waist as hers found their way around his neck, he had anticipated a much less intense kiss than that one she gave him. Not that he minded at all, though, because he most certainly didn't. It just took him a moment before his own lips responded appropriately.  
  
"Alright," he replied, turning to his own room as she retreated to hers.  
  
Al abrir la puerta, Orlando kicked off his tan boots and flung them into a corner of the room. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, he removed his socks, which, one might add, didn't smell too wonderfully, and proceeded to unbutton his black oxford shirt. Slowly removing it, and letting it fall to the floor, his hand paused as it touched his collar bone, and his eyes closed for a moment in silent recollection.  
  
Sighing to himself, he shook the feeling from his head and continued undressing, pulling his white undershirt over his head and slipping out of his pants, and into a pair of light ((referring to the fabric, not the color)) dark blue pajama pants, tying the waist loosely.  
  
Leaving his dirty clothes in a heap by his bed, he retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, a childhood habit that hadn't ever really faded. Towling off his face, he returned to the bedroom, lying down on the bed and closing his eyes, just in time to hear a quiet knock and the door creep open.  
  
Smiling as Faithe entered and laid down next to him, he scooped her up in his arms, lying her head upon his chest and positioning his arm so that his fingers could stroke the top of her head lightly. While most guys would have gone crazy at the prospect of having a girl in their bed in a hotel in downtown Manhattan, their thoughts didn't even occur to Orlando, he was perfectly content just cuddling with her.  
  
"Sunday night's the last time you'll be able to see it," he answered, glancing up at the comet through the window, "but it doesn't leave Earth until Monday morning."  
  
Reaching up a hand, he flipped the light off, leaving the two in darkness, save the moonlight, which shone enough light to allow them their sense of sight.  
  
"Hey," he began randomly, "Why does everyone here call you Isabelle?"  
  
Relaxing in his arms, Faithe released a contented sigh as she allowed her eyes to close momentarily. Opening them at his question, she allowed her eyes to drift to the window, a small smile spreading on her face. "Because that's my name, silly." Tilting her head up, a small grin spread over her lips. "I didn't start going by Faithe until I was a teenager. My family and almost everybody I've ever worked with calls me Isabelle. Well, Jake calls me Izzy most the time. As for Kaytlin, she was struggling to say Isabelle when she was learning to talk. However, Beauty and the Beast was one of her favorite stories, and so she just started calling me Aunt Bell."  
  
Running her index finger absentmindedly on his chest, a small smile spread on her face at the thought of Kaytlin. "Mm...Sunday. Can we make it a date?" Smiling, she snuggled into him, finding warmth in his arms. Closing her eyes, she started to feel the exaustion from that day creep over her.  
  
Feeling her body relax, a voice in her head was telling her that she should probably get up and go to bed. However, she found it increasingly difficult to will herself to move. "I should go get in bed..." Her voice came out a tired whisper, and even as she spoke she felt herself drifting off into sleep. Snuggling deeper into him, Faithe tried to force her eyes open, but her muscles weren't cooperating. "It'd probably help if I could move..." Murmering, her voice was coming out softer and softer as she spoke. This day had been too much...that was for sure.  
  
((*sobs* I'm killing their Sunday date! Gah! I feel horrible. In other news, did you notice that I used random Spanish in the last post I wrote? Sorry 'bout that, 'twasn't intentional))  
  
Nodding at her answer to his question, Orlando grinned. That made perfect sense, he thought, remembering that her real name, well, her first name, at least, was Isabelle. He preferred Faithe, though, he decided, flitting his eyes down to meet her gaze for a moment.  
  
"Eh," he replied, "Belle does most certainly suit you, but I prefer Faithe."  
  
Feeling her finger casually waltz over his bare chest, a sort of shiver/tingle ran down his spine and he closed his eyes, indulging himself in the feeling.  
  
"Sunday?" he repeated, opening his eyes again and pulling her close as she snuggled into him, "I suppose so."  
  
Smiling to himself, his fingers resumed stroking her hair as his other arm fell across his stomach, hand landing upon her waist. This was nice. He was content, comfortable, and enraptured lying there with her safe in his arms. Letting out a gentle breath, the man couldn't think of a better way to end the eventful day.  
  
"You are in bed, ma Foi," Orlando stated quietly, insinuating that he wasn't about to have her return to her own bed. He was tired, she was exhausted, and he couldn't think of a single reason for her not to fall asleep in his arms.  
  
Craning his neck momentarily, he planted a soft, gentle kiss upon her head before a yawn escaped his parted lips. Still absentmindedly stroking her soft hair, he lay his head down upon hers, closing his eyes.  
  
"Bonne nûit et bon rêves," he whispered quietly, trailing off into "un bon rêve" of his own.  
  
Smiling at his answer, she opened her eyes, poking out her bottom lip, "You suppose? Well sheesh...Don't sound too enthused about the idea." Grinning, she tilted her head up, allowing her lips to brush against his neck, but not kissing him. As he pulled her closer, her eyes closed again, this time with every intention of staying that way. Her forehead fell gently against his cheek as her breathing fell in sync with his.  
  
"Bonne nuit, mon amour," speaking softly, Faithe relayed the little bit of French she did know. From all the singing she had done in the past, many French songs had been included in several of the theatre's programs. Through that experience, for somebody who wasn't fluent in French, her accent was pretty well developed.  
  
Listening to his heart beating softly, her mind began to slip into that dreamy state right before she fell asleep. She felt safe, protected. That in itself was a new feeling to her. It's not as if Faithe had ever really felt unsafe, but she had never been able to look at a situation and feel that no matter what happened, she was protected. It didn't take long for Faithe to drift off into sleep. Her body gradually fell limp, a strand of hair falling in front of her face.  
  
The golden fingers of the bright summer sum tore throught thy sky, flowing through the window and bringing a warm sense to Orlando's face, causing his eyes to flit open. After a quiet yawn, his mouth slumped into a grin once more. Blinking his eyes, he hoped the evening before hadn't been a part of some wonderful dream. The hope soon became a reality as he looked upon the beautiful, slumbering woman beside him.  
  
His arms still lay draped around her side, and his hand was still entangled in her hair. Smiling, he stroked her hair lightly with one hand, gazing on in admiration. Orlando sighed contentedly, finding himself to be in a surreal state of mind.  
  
Gently, he kissed Faithe upon the cheek. He felt lost in her embrace, unsure as to what lay ahead for them. The soft breath of the woman brushed against his face and he smiled cheerily. This is what he'd been missing for the longest of times: the arms of another, the body of one who would still be there when he awoke. Shaking his head, he laid it against her shoulder for a moment before meticulously wriggling his body out from beneath hers and lying her head upon the pillow.  
  
Still shirtless, but clad in pajama pants, of course, he made his way quietly into the kitchen and, within a few minutes, returned to the bedroom with a magnificent menagerie of French toast, fruit, and juice, all on one conjured silver platter. Setting the tray down upon the nightstand, he leaned over and gently ran his fingers through her hair and down her arm.  
  
"Good morning." he whispered, voice slowly creeping into her ear.  
  
Faithe had awaken once during the night after a nightmare about Eddie apparating into their room. Breathing hard, and slightly shakey, she had wrapped her arms around Orlando, once again finding that comfort from his presence. The steady rhythm of his deep breathing, and the soft ba-boom of his heartbeat had sung her back to sleep in almost no time.  
  
When Orlando awoke and slid out from underneath her, a small moan escaped her lips as he laid her head down on the pillow. Without waking up, her body moved to readjust to the still pillow. Burying her head into the pillow, Faithe's breathing became steady once again.  
  
Orlando's soft, alto voice filled her head as goosebumps rose on her arm from his gentle touch. Moaning softly again, Faithe stirred slightly, but still remained asleep. Though her mind was still asleep, the tingling sensation his hand had brought her arm caused her to start shivering slightly in her sleep. As she snuggled into the pillow even deeper, her eyebrows furrowed slightly in her sleep.  
  
Exhaling, a broad grin overtook Orlando's face as Faithe stirred, but failed to wake completely. Noticing the Goosebumps upon her slightly shivering her arm, the man took his hand to it once more, gently running it up and down her arm slowly, much as one would do in the winter, trying to warm her up. Tilting his head to gaze somewhat longingly at the sleeping beauty, the grin melted into a smile.  
  
"Le soleil est a lieu de ciel," he sang quietly, almost whispering the words of the French folk song. Although it was most certainly obvious that Orlando wasn't a trained singer, the man could hold a tone and his natural vocal tone would lend itself well to singing, had he ever had professional training.  
  
"Le matin arrivé."  
  
The baritone melody faded as he leaned down and kissed her cheek.  
  
"Bonjour, ma cherie," he whispered in a sing-song voice, with just the vaguest hint of the song's tune, "Ouvrent vos yeux."  
  
As his hand ran over her arm in an attempt to warm her, a soft moan escaped her lips as her head snuggled into the pillow some more. Hearing his soft voice, she began to wake up, becoming aware of her surroundings. Her brown eyes fluttered open slowly, and a small smile spread over her lips at the sight of Orlando.  
  
"Good mornin' sweetheart," her voice came out soft, and had a rather heavy Texan lilt to her voice. After living in New York almost continually for seven years, the southern accent she had once had had melted away, but popped up most mornings right after she woke up. Reaching out, she took his hand, bringing up to her heart. He had such a soothing voice...she sure wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning.  
  
Catching sight of the french toast, a mischevious grin spread over her face. "I see you had better luck with the french toast bit this morning..."  
  
As her brown eyes opened, Orlando's brilliant blue ones met them, sharing with her a thousand words in a single look. Her Southern accent brought a soft smile to his lips, which was soon replaced by that Orlando-y grin.  
  
Entangling their fingers as she took his hand in hers, he brought her hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss upon it before she could lay it upon her heart. Situating himself so that he was sitting completely atop the bed, somewhere near her chest, he brought himself into a half-sitting/half- laying position.  
  
Shaking his head at her comment, he chuckled in remembrance of the mess they had made in his room a few months ago.  
  
"Of course I did," he replied, matching the mischievousness of her grin with the inflection of his voice, "because you weren't there wildly flinging the ingredients about the kitchen or pouring the batter all over my head."  
  
Grinning at her, he gazed down into her eyes with more of a serious, longing gaze of reverence.  
  
"I could get used to waking up with you in my arms, y'know," he mused, stroking her hair.  
  
Gasping melodramatically, she shook her head, "I have no idea what you're talking about! Besides," looking at him suspiciously, "I have a hunch you didn't exactly make these like you were trying to make the others." Grinning, she winked playfully at him. Her grin soon melted into a small, warm smile accompanied by a look of pure love and adoration.  
  
Now that he was sitting closer to her, Faithe reached up her other hand and touched his cheek gently. Her eyes drooped halfway at the warm sensation when he stroked her hair, the left side of her mouth tilting up in a half smile. "I could definitely get used to falling asleep in your arms." Running her hand gently through his hair, that same longing she saw on his face came over hers as she gently stroked his cheek.  
  
Sighing, a somewhat whistful expression crossed her eyes, "I just hate that this openness all has to end Sunday evening when we go back to school. Back to sneaking around to seeing one another." Biting her bottom lip, she hated it that the true reality of this weekend in paradise had jumped into her head at this time. She hated it that she couldn't be open a daily basis about her feelings for him. But, it was the only solution there was, and she was more than willing to live with it if that's what it took. Forcing a small smile on her face, she squeezed his hand, "Ready to eat?"  
  
"How could I?" Orlando asked with a grin playing on his lips, "I wanted to have 'em ready for you when you woke up... and I didn't know when that was going to happen, so I had to make 'em fast. Besides, I wanted to keep this bed clean, darling."  
  
Sighing softly as her fingertips caressed his cheek, the man's blue eyes closed for an instant, then re-opened, staring deep into her brown ones. Amazing... There was no other word to describe the indescribable sensation the man felt within.  
  
At her sigh, the man's dreamy gaze faltered and was replaced with a look of concern, wondering what was wrong... Until she spoke, at least, answering his unspoken question. Nodding in silent agreement, he sighed as well.  
  
"Way to ruin the moment, Faithe," he joked, laughing to show her that he was, indeed, only joking, "I wake up with you laying on me, get up and make you breakfast, we share one of those 'longing gazes', and I was just about to kiss you when you have to jolt me back into reality."  
  
She was right, though. This entire weekend wasn't reality. He was able to hold her hand whenever he wanted, say things that might not entirely fit a student-teacher relationship, run his hand through her hair, whisper in her ear, and kiss her lips. Come Monday, he would have to put himself back in check, and watch his actions closely. But, for now, he didn't have to worry about anyone seeing them, or what bad might come from one slip of the tongue.  
  
"And," he added, "I think I still will." Choosing to take advantage of that last realization, literally, he leant his head down and kissed her softly.  
  
"Now, I'm ready to eat," he said with a grin.  
  
Laughing as he got on to her, and for the bed comment, she kissed his nose lovingly. "Aww honey, you looked so good covered in batter. Then again, you look sexy anytime." Grinning, there was a sparkle in her eyes that had only ever been brought out when Orlando was around. Running her hand along his jawline, that adoring smile caressed her lips after he had kissed her.  
  
"I love you." Talking softly, her fingers were still running back and forth along his jawline. She loved touching his face, she didn't know why, but she just did. Sitting up after he made his declaration for food, a small grin spread over her face. Typical guy... But Orlando wasn't a typical guy. At least, not the typical guys she had ever known. Orlando was different. He was gentle, compassionate, and adoring.  
  
Stretching her arms above her head, a small yawn escaped her mouth. "Mmm...Waking me up to the soft sound of your voice, the warm touch of your hand, and breakfast in bed." Smiling, she reached up and touched his face again, "Can I keep you?"  
  
Scrunching his nose up playfully as her lips touched it, Orlando laughed. Of course he looked good in batter...  
  
"Sexy, eh?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows impishly. He was trying to make light of her words, but his modest nature combined with the person whose lips were speaking the words brought a gentle blush to his cheeks. Shaking his head, he grinned.  
  
"I love you, too," he whispered back, kissing her neck as her hands covered his face again.  
  
As the small yawn escaped her mouth, one did the same from Orlando's ((and as I typed that, I yawned as well... whoa)); yawning was contagious.  
  
"Always," Orlando replied softly, kissing her forehead before reaching over and grabbing the tray that held the two plates of French toast, two bowls of fruit and two glasses of some sort of juice-type beverage.  
  
"Your breakfast, mon amoure..."  
  
"Yes, sexy." Laughing softly at his blush, she poked his cheek softly. Her stomach flipped as she heard the words escape his lips. The words 'I love you' had been a rarity in Faithe's life. She couldn't ever recall hearing it from her parents. The only people who had ever told her that were Jake and Eddie, and there were always hidden motives behind Eddie. Hearing those sweet words come from the man she adored, Faithe felt sucha feeling of...contentment and excitement.  
  
Kissing him on the cheek, she took the food graciously from him. Picking up a grape, she popped it in her mouth, relishing the sweet and sour taste. "Mmmm...At least your conjure up good food." Grinning, she nudged him slightly with her shoulder.  
  
Chuckling once more as being referred to as sexy, Orlando grinned and shook his head, the blush in his cheeks growing ever more noticeable. He didn't ever really think of himself like that. In fact, he'd never really even thought about it before.  
  
Smiling as her lips brushed against his cheek, his eyes closed for a moment.  
  
"I know," he replied with a mock arrogant smirk, "Did you honestly expect the Head of Athena not to be able to get a decent breakfast out of his wand? I mean, I've never been able to conjure up grapes that didn't leave your tongue with a bright purple color and a week-long grape taste, but..."  
  
Shrugging as he trailed off, the man did a pretty good job of keeping a straight face, and even added a little bit of embarassment to the tone of his voice, as though the "fact" that his grapes were defective sincerely bothered him.  
  
Laughing, she reached out and grabbed his nose lightly, wiggling it back and forth. Swallowing the rest of her grape, she let go of his nose. "It's a good thing I know that you're a big fat liar." Grinning, she scrunched up her nose again. At least, I hope he's lying. She opened her mouth to say something, but the phone cut her off.  
  
Raising her eyebrow, she gave him a questioning look as she leaned over to pick up the reciever.  
  
"Hello?" There was an air of inquiry in her voice as she spoke. It was rather odd for the room to be getting a phone call.  
  
"AUNT BELL!" A yell was her reply. A small cry escaped her mouth as she held the phone away from her ear, wincing slightly at Orlando. Offering him the phone, she grinned.  
  
"It's for you?" Laughing, she dared to bring the reciever back to her ear, moving slowly. "Hey sweetie, how are you?"  
  
"I'm great! Are you coming to see me sing tonight?" Her volume had lowered, and her voice now carried a tone of urgent excitement.  
  
"Not tonight sweetie. Orlando and I have to go take care of some business. He has to go name his comet." Speaking in that voice she only used with her niece, Faithe fingered the small, silver Northern Star around her neck; the star that matched the same one Kayte had.  
  
"Ahhh," a small whine could be heard on the other end of the reciever.  
  
"Don't worry sweetz, I'm coming back up next weekend especially to see you." Winking at Orlando, she reached up and stole a strawberry from his plate. After a few quick words, she hung up the phone, shaking her head as a small sparkle lit her eyes.  
  
"That child...she is something else. She's going to be absolutely beautiful when she's a teenager." Laughing softly, she reached out and squeezed his hand lightly. "We're going to have to keep an eye on her."  
  
Raising his eyebrow as Faithe casually made light of his jest, Orlando shrugged.  
  
"Oh, but I'm not lying, ma Foi," he said sincerely, "Go ahead and ask the Transfiguration professor; I can't conjure up grapes that don't have something wrong with them..."  
  
Pausing a moment solely to see her reaction, the stone face melted into a smile.  
  
"Lucky for you I didn't conjure those ones," he added, "Room service works wonders..."  
  
After a quick moment, Orlando's eyebrow rose again, and his his face fell, blue eyes glancing with mock panic towards his chest.  
  
"Fat?" he repeated, making his bottom lip quiver slightly as his eyes surveyed his -in this author's opinion, gorgeous- body. "I knew I shouldn't have eaten all those mashed potatoes last night..."  
  
Grinning once more, his mien, too, turned into a questioning one of sorts as the phone rang, and Faithe reached over to pick it up. Telephones were another thing that Orlando had yet to adjust himself too. True, he knew what they were, and could use one reasonably well, but they were still... different. He didn't understand why one wouldn't just send an owl over, or, if an instant reply was needed, apparate over for a chat...  
  
Hearing a small voice yell loudly from the receiver, Orlando couldn't help but reír a carcajadas. It was obviously Kaytlin. Wanting to keep his hearing for another fifty or so years, Orlando waved off the phone when Faithe handed it to him, mouthing something along the lines of "it's too early".  
  
Listening with vague interest to the end of the conversation he could hear, Orlando's eyes were drawn to the star around Faithe's neck. Kaytlin had had one identical to it, he recalled; in fact, that was nearly the first thing the little girl had talked to him about. Curiously inclining his head, his pensive trance burst when Faithe reached over a plucked a berry off his plate.  
  
"Yeah, keep all that food away from me," he whispered with a grin, teasingly putting another small bunch of grapes on Faithe's plate as well,"I gotta start losing weight."  
  
As she hung up the phone, Orlando could help the smirk that crossed his face. Nodding in agreement when at last she spoke, the mischievousness faded from his face and was replaced with a gentle, sincere expression.  
  
"Just like her aunt," he added in response to the Kayte becoming beautiful comment, running a hand down the side of Faithe's face.  
  
"We're?" Orlando repeated. "Who says I'm gonna stick around long enough to see Kayte as a teenage?" he asked, completely joking. ((And he's saying it in the same voice Catch used to ask Sharon if she thought she deserved coffee))  
  
Her face faultered at his comment about the grapes, her brown eyes growing wide. A small squeak escaped her lips as she started toward the mirror, but stopped when she saw his lips curl into a smile. Growling, she picked up a pillow and stuffed it in his face. "Eat that!" Winking, she poked her bottom lip out, mocking him with a playful glint in her eyes as she watched his lip quiver melodramatically. Sitting her plate in her lap, she leaned forward and kissed only his bottom lip lightly, the left side of her mouth curling up.  
  
"You're sexy," keeping her voice low, she practically purred at him. ((Ha ha...Loved your little comment in that, by the way!)) He was not fat, and they both knew it. Slapping him lightly in the shoulder about his food comment, she stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
Blushing slightly at his words in response to Kaytlin's future appearance, her eyes fell to the bed and shook her head slightly. "I hope not. The poor girl deserves better than that." Closing her eyes at the feel of his hand, her head leaned into his caress slightly. Opening her eyes, the look she gave him was filled with love and admiration.  
  
Rolling her eyes at his comment, she rolled her neck slightly, leaving the warmth of his hand. Shaking her head, she grinned at him, "Well, actually sweetie, I was talking about Jake and me." Smiling, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Looking down, her smile became more faint, "You make it sound like you intend on taking off." Raising her eyes, she forced a smile to give off the impression that she was just teasing him. Of course, on the outside she did make it look like she was just kidding, but there was an uneasiness his comment had laid in her heart.  
  
She knew he was just teasing her, but the thought of it did make her feel tense. The idea of Orlando simply not being around effected her, more than she would admit. Smiling, she winked at him, "Well, hopefully I can keep you around for a little while."  
  
When she had been on the phone, she had noticed his eyes on the necklace. Looking down at the small silver star, she reached up and rubbed the star in between her index finger and thumb. Shifting her gaze from the charm, she looked back up at Orlando, keeping the star in between her fingers. "It's our lifeline."  
  
Busting out the boyish grin in response to Faithe moving towards the mirror, Orlando couldn't contain his laughter, yet, that wasn't a problem, as it was soon hushed when he found himself smothered by a pillow. Biting it with a grin, he tried to- as she had put it- "eat it", but didn't quite find its taste to suit his liking, and threw it back at her.  
  
As her lips touched his bottom one, he felt a shiver run down his spine, whose sensation was only heightened as she told him he was sexy. The lower register of her voice had a sort of dark, mysterious undertone to it, which wasn't at all characteristic of the sweet, upbeat and fun Faithe he knew; needless to say, it intrigued Orlando extremely. Rolling his shoulder away from her as she gently smacked it, he shrugged and raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
Seeing the soft blush begin to rouge her cheeks, Orlando couldn't help but shake his head at her.  
  
"You're beautiful," he insisted in a gentle, sincere whisper, stroking her face with his fingertips as he spoke, "Even if Kaytlin only grows up to look half as amazing as you, she'll still be striking."  
  
Feeling her roll her head out of his hand, he retracted it. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded slowly. How was he supposed to have known that? Shrugging, he let a sheepish grin overcome his face for a moment. Quickly following that, after her lips had touched his cheek, came a soft, pink blush.  
  
Normally, given the opportunity to do so, Orlando would take full advantage of Faithe's teasing him about leaving her, but something in her eyes stopped him, or maybe it was the way her lips stopped halfway through their smile. Or, perhaps it was his strong divination talent. Whatever it was, he passed up the chance, and, instead, took a much different approach.  
  
Gently running his hand through her hair and down her jawbone, Orlando lifted her chin up so that, not only her eyes, but also her head was looking at him. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead before pulling back and allowing his sapphire eyes gaze into her russet ones.  
  
"Don't worry, ma Foi," he whispered with just a hint of a smile pulling at his lips, "Tomorrow morning, if you wake up and the sun does not appear, I will be here. Tomorrow morning, if you wake up and the future is unclear, I will be here. I'm not planning on going anywhere."  
  
After a sincere moment of silence, where all he did was gaze into her eyes with something between a look of reverence and one of passionate longing, the smile upon his face grew into a grin, and what had been earnestness had now melted into repartee.  
  
"As long as you don't mind being with a horribly fat and extremely dorky Astronomy professor, I'll be here," he added, doing a pretty good job at preventing himself from laughing too much.  
  
Gazing with interest at the necklace between her fingers for a moment, Orlando's eyes flitted up to meet hers.  
  
"Lifeline?" he repeated, not quite understanding how a necklace could work as such. As a wizard, he presumed there was some sort of magical connection, and didn't even consider the possibility of the necklace duo being a metaphorical lifeline  
  
Laughing as he bit the pillow, her laughter soon faded as she shook her head, a look of adoration caressing her features. Squealing as the pillow was thrown back in her face, she grabbed it and hugged it tightly. Resting her chin on the top of the pillow, her eyes never ceasing to leave his face. Feeling her cheeks burn even hotter with embarrassment, she only shook her head. Though she was objecting, there was a part of her that felt rather pleased with his comment. More honored than anything.  
  
Her eyes became weighted with contentment as his hand gently ran through her hair and down her face. A smile spread over her mouth as he spoke, she reached up and caressed his face with her hand. "Be careful, Professor Lorenz, somebody might think that you're a poet." Leaning forward, she kissed his nose lightly. "A beautiful poet at that."  
  
Practically tackling him for his fat comment, Faithe pounced on him, pinning him to the bed. Leaning forward, she rested her nose barely on his, her eyebrows furrowing together. "You are not fat, and you certainly aren't dorky." Sitting up, she moved her arms so that he was free to sit back up if he wished. Eyes glimmering with reverence, she reached out and intertwined a tuft of his hair in her fingers gingerly. Twirling it slowly, she spoke softly, "You're brilliant."  
  
Letting his hair fall back in place, she looked down at the necklace once more, lifting it in the palm of her hand. "Our lifeline. My grandmommy had one just like it." Looking up at him, a look of remembrance crossed her face. "She gave me this one when I was four, and it was our lifeline. It's enchanted. They both are. Since she didn't live near me, she found these as a way for us to always know how each other is doing. When Grandmommy died, the other necklace was left to me. I gave it to Kaytlin." Reaching up with her other hand, she put her index finger on the top of the star, and her thumb on the bottom. Concentrating her mind how she had done so many times before, she looked down as a soft blue glow shone around the star.  
  
"I can tell how healthy she is by how bright the light is. I can feel her emotions inside of me." A small grin crossed her face, "Right now, she's extremely hyperactive." Laughing softly, she shook her head as she let go of the necklace. "She's learning how to use it. So far she can feel my emotions, but she hasn't mastered the glow." A sad sort of expression came over her face as her hand ran absentmindedly over the silver Northern Star.  
  
"When Grandmommy died, I felt it." A cold chill settled over her and she hugged the pillow with both arms a little bit tighter. "It was probably one of the most terrifying things I've ever felt. Feeling death without actually experiencing it." The left corner of her mouth crooked up as a small look of amusement crossed her face, "You would think that since I've almost died twice, it wouldn't have effected me that much. But yes, this is our lifeline."  
  
"I'm certainly not a poet, ma cherie, I guess the truth's just inherently eloquent," Orlando replied with a soft smile accompanying the soft blush in his cheeks that was becoming so frequent it was almost characteristic of him.  
  
Grinning as Faithe ambushed him, for, in some ways, he had been expecting it, Orlando rolled his eyes in amusement. Raising an eyebrow in mock confusion, as though he had no idea why he was pinned down, he simply kept grinning as she spoke. Rubbing his nose against hers right before she sat up, Orlando shook his head.  
  
"You need to make up your mind," he replied, smiling impishly, as he remained lying down, "You tell me I'm a dork on the train ride here, you just called me fat, and now you're saying that I'm not." Gazing up, his gaze met hers, and a smirk fought to cross his face. "You women are so confusing."  
  
As her fingers once more found their way to his hair, the smirk melted into an endearing smile. Closing his eyes momentarily as she wound it around her finger, an act that was almost becoming habitual for her, he re-opened them only at the sound of her voice. Meeting her revering gaze, he smiled back, reaching a hand up a making an- in the author's opinion- adorable, pathetic futile attempt to run his fingers through her hair. In actuality, his fingers only caught the very end of her ponytail, barely moving it, and causing the man to make a sort of exasperated face at her.  
  
"And you're beautiful," he countered earnestly as he casually propped himself up on an elbow and gently pulled whatever hair accessory was holding her hair in the ponytail out. Placing his hand atop her head, his fingers waltzed through the rest of her hair, toying with it slightly as they reached the bottom, and prompting a contented smile to cross his face as he wound the -presumably- elastic band nonchalantly about his fingers and lying back down.  
  
Staring at the necklace as she lifted it into her hand, the blue color of Orlando's eyes deepened, as it often did when he was particularly concentrated or intent upon something. He nodded slowly as she spoke, finding the whole lifeline concept of the necklace rather captivating. It was amazing was a little bit of magic could do to bring two people close to each other.  
  
Enthralled by the way Faithe could control the necklace's glow, the entranced look on Orlando's face heightened, and the man smiled at Faithe's comment about Kayte being "hyperactive".  
  
As the young woman spoke of her grandmother, Orlando offered a small, sympathetic smile as condolence, reaching up and brushing his fingertips gently along her arm.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said candidly.  
  
"For that, too," he added with a small laugh in response to her comment about nearly dying twice herself.  
  
Tsk-ing as he commented about his 'eloquent' speech, she shook her head. "You are too modest, love." Kissing his cheek softly, she smiled as his cheeks turned red. Reaching out, she ran her hand softly over his cheek, "You blush wonderfully."  
  
Nudging him softly, she stuck her tongue out, her nose wrinkling as she did so. "Stinker. You know I was just teasing you sweets." Leaning down, she rested her upper body on top of his, "You're not a dork." Kissing his nose lightly, she grinned. "You're brilliant," she whispered as she kissed his left cheek. "Sexy," purring as she spoke, she kissed his right cheek. "Amazing,"winking, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, but did't kiss him. Sitting up, she stuck her tongue out at him again.  
  
Giggling as he tried to reach her hair, she couldn't help but find the look of exasperation adorable. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, but made no verbal objection, knowing that everything would just end up going in a circle. Feeling his hand gently tickle her scalp after he'd taken her hair down, her head tilted slightly.  
  
Laying down after she had spoken, she rested her head on his stomach. Turning her head to look at him, she reached up and started toying with his hair again. "Eh...don't be sorry." Laughing softly, she closed her eyes for a short moment, opening them with a look of amusement in her eyes. "The first time was rather interesting, but it also taught me to keep a sizeable distance between myself and the edge of the stage. I was five and Jake was seven, and we did not get along. At all! It was our parents' great idea to cast us as argueing siblings. Well, during dress rehearsal one day, his character was supposed to push my character. The only problem is, Jake was still mad at me for some fight we'd had a couple hours earlier, so he pushed me really hard. Some poor tuba player was down in the orchestra pit, and next thing he knew, there was a five year old falling on him."  
  
Grinning, she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips. "Poor Jake. That's the reason we're so close now. He almost killed me. I still have a scar on the back of my neck." Among the many on my back from the broom... Faithe was extremely self-conscious about the scars on her back, which was why she would never wear a bathing suit in front of other people. Anytime she had ever gone swimming, she would always wear a shirt over her top. Shuddering at the thought, she shook her head absentmindedly.  
  
Reaching out, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers in his. "What about you? Anything of that sort?"  
  
Feeling her body lay atop his, Orlando's eyebrows rose mischievously and he nonchalantly set a hand atop her back. As she went through the motions of kissing nearly every feature of his face except his lips, he blushed, then, as her lips brushed his, but failed to fully kiss him, the blush faded and a quizzical glance overtook his face for a minute. Hand still on her back, and exaggerated look of disappointment on his face, the man made a futile attempt to stop her from sitting all the way up. Not being able to do so, due to the poor position he was in, he simply let his face fall.  
  
"It's not nice to tease people, y'know," he whispered with pleading eyes for a moment before taking her hair down.  
  
As the weight of her head was put upon his stomach, Orlando's hand reached down to stroke her now-down-hair, smiling as her hand reached for his own hair.  
  
Gasping as Faithe told of her first encounter with death, his hand stopped stroking her hair to let his eyes widen in shock. After a moment, his eyes flitted to her neck, and, provided that he could see it from the position she was laying in, to her scar, which his fingers gently ran across in a sort of hypnotic trance.  
  
Forgetting that the young woman had said she had nearly died twice, primarily because her question distracted him, Orlando's mind began re- enacting his own encounter with Death, not even noticing that she had entangled their fingers. Besides the beatings his father regaled him with, there was another traumatic event in his past that he rarely shared with anyone. Of course, Faithe already knew about the single most secretive aspect of his life, and, if he felt comfortable enough to tell her that, then there wasn't a reason in the world to keep the other event from her.  
  
"Yeah, actually," he answered, somewhat absentmindedly, trying to remain as calm as possible. Clearly, he couldn't do that well if he was thinking about the incident. It would be best to be as casual as possible in his recollection, he thought, gnawing slightly on his tongue as he began to speak.  
  
"I grew up on the coast of Oahu, kind of between Ewa Beach and Pearl Harbor, and- as you already know- home wasn't exactly a place I delighted in going to. So, I kinda took refuge, during the day, at least, in diving just off the coast. It's not like my parents cared where I was, in fact, sometimes, I think all of us would have been happier if I'd just never come home after school one day." Sighing, he shook his head.  
  
"Anyways, this one day- I was about ten years old- I went out a little too far, and, scrawny as I was, I ended up looking quite appealing to a shark."  
  
Another pause in the conversation ensued as Orlando closed his eyes, mentally reliving the incident.  
  
Gently, and meticulously, setting down his schoolbooks in the soft, powdery sand along the coastline, the small, gaunt, ten-year-old boy eagerly ripped his shirt over his head and flung it upon the ground. Unzipping his pants, he let them drop to the ground to reveal a pair of deep orange swim trunks. Kicking off his sandals, he ran across the sand, not even noticing that he had stepped on a small rock and cut his foot a bit as he practically flew into the warm water of the Pacific Ocean.  
  
Letting its warmth encircle him, the boy flitted his brilliant blue eyes down to gaze through the transparent, blue waters, intently staring at the phenomenal marine life below its surface. Grinning to himself, he bobbed a few times in the water before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he ducked under the water.  
  
Re-opening his eyes, he began swimming below the surface. His eyes seemed to widen incessantly, amazed by the beautiful fish, the rays, and, of course, the flora that the sea held. So entranced was he that he failed to notice the ocean floor growing further and further from him with each kick of his long, lanky legs and each stoke his skinny arms made. Feeling his chest grow warm, burning for oxygen, he allowed himself to surface and rest for a minute.  
  
Treading water, the cut in his foot began to burn a cause of the salt water. Being slightly irritated by the pain, his eyes darted about, estimating himself to be about a half-mile from the shore. Having taught himself how to swim rather well, that fact didn't faze this particular little boy at all; he could easily make it back to shore in a few minutes' time. Glancing about, he found his gaze inadvertently drawn to an object seemingly floating in the ocean.  
  
Initially, he blew it off as a piece of seaweed, but seaweed wasn't gray, and seaweed didn't come out of the water- it floated on top. This particular object was slick, shiny, gray, and coming out of the water at an angle- it was the top fin of a shark. Realizing this, the tiny boy began kicking as hard as he could, turning himself quickly back towards the island.  
  
Hearing the water ripple quickly behind him, his eyes widened in fear as he reverted to doggy-paddling as fast and furiously as he could. Then, in an instant, he felt twenty-four teeth sink into the bottom of his left thigh. Immediately, tears flew to his eyes as he let out a scream, trying desperately to kick himself free. It wasn't for another seven minutes that he was free at last, having used nearly all the strength in his tiny body to defend himself against the sea monster.  
  
Still crying, and shaking in fear, he eventually made it back to shore.  
  
Though the gash in his leg eventually healed into a perfect impression of the shark's mouth upon the back of his left thigh, the memory never faded, and, from that day on, that young boy has been more immerged in water than the shower.  
  
"Still got the scar on my leg," he mused, directing his gaze towards his left thigh for a moment. Of course, he had downplayed the story quite a bit, but after the mental recollection, a verbal narration would have been too much. As he focused his thoughts on the scar, he could almost feel the teeth ripping his flesh, causing him to flinch just slightly, not enough for the average person to notice.  
  
Shrugging it off, he casually smiled at Faithe.  
  
"I'm still alive, though," he laughed, "I'm unstoppable."  
  
Seeing his face blush, her mischievous grin grew wider. The look of disappointment on his face caused Faithe's face to break out in a playful and sympathetic smile. Gah...He is the most adorable person on this planet.  
  
"It may not be nice, my love, but it sure is fun." Sticking the tip of her tongue out, her nose wrinkled slightly as she winked.  
  
Listening to him speak, the smile faded from her face and was replaced by a look of deep compassion and concern. The biggest thing she'd ever been bitten by was a cat name Baldy, named for the baldness on his tail. She'd been four at the time, and it had terrified the magic out of her. She couldn't even begin to think of the terror that must have gone through the ten year old little Orlando.  
  
Turning on her side so her brown eyes could focus on him without going cross eyed, her eyes drifted over the features of his face. His jaw line as he spoke, his brilliant blue eyes as they flashed with that look of reminiscing.  
  
quote:  
I think all of us would have been happier if I'd just never come home after school one day."  
  
  
At those words, she sat up straight, her eyebrows furrowing together. "Don't say that! Ever!" There was a firmness to her voice, but everything in the way she spoke was filled with love and compassion. Giving her best attempt at looking angry at him for daring to speak such an atrocity, she couldn't help the sincere look of passion for the man laying before her. Returning to her position, she rested her hand on his stomach in front of her face.  
  
Her hand moved from his stomach to her neck, her index finger running gently along the straight line. She could handle that one scar, it was just the other six that littered her back. Hearing him speak of his own scar, an involuntary shudder ran through her spine.  
  
Smiling at his last comments, her head shook, that mischievous glint reappearing in her brown eyes. Rolling over on her stomach, she pushed herself off the bed a few inches, crawling up towards him. Bringing her face within an inch of his, the smile on her face faded into a look of serious flirtation.  
  
Whispering softly, her eyes never blinked, but they held that look of devotion. "I bet you I could stop the unstoppable." Toying with him again, she brushed her lips across his, but pulled back. Rolling over, she stretched out on her back, a grin spreading on her face, "Then again....maybe I won't."  
  
((Insert time here.))  
  
The sound of the phone ringing echoed throughout the room, causing her to jump slightly. Smiling, she looked over at Orlando, "Honey, will you get that?"  
  
"May not be nice?" Orlando repeated incredulously, raising his eyebrows at Faithe, "It's definitely not nice, and that's an understatement. You're completely teasing me here!"  
  
It was certain that Orlando was complaining about it by his vocal tone and the look in his eyes. For as much as he whined about it, her taunting him couldn't have bothered him too much. After all, it wouldn't have taken much effort for him to have simply lifted his head and kissed her himself.  
  
"And, what's worse," he added with a grin, "is that you're enjoying every single second of it."  
  
Feeling her jolt up off of him, and hearing her nearly scream as she scolded him, Orlando's face was contorted by an expression of sheer perplexition. Why shouldn't he say such a thing? It was, after all, true. His parents wouldn't have had to deal with his conflicting personality, his brother would have been free to use the loft for indulging in hormonally directed activities instead of having to use his own bed, his sister wouldn't have had to be subjected to being a squib in a family of five, and he wouldn't have ever felt so alone again. He might have been alone, but the feelings of dread and terror wouldn't have ever surfaced again. Closing his eyes for a moment, he wondered why he hadn't ever thought of such a simple solution before, when he had been a child. Then again, everything was ideal in one's mind... even Communism. It was when reality interferred that consequences were caused.  
  
Shrugging at her words, Orlando offered her a nonchalant gaze that said something along the lines of, "Eh, what're ya gonna do?".  
  
Matching her smile with one of his own for a moment, the jovial grin disappeared as Faithe nearly prowled up towards him and her face came close to hers. Not even realizing that she was teasing him again, his hand reached up towards the back of her neck, and his fingers combed through her hair.  
  
Looking up into that indescribably attractive gaze Faithe's eyes held, Orlando felt an enjoyable shiver ripple down his spine at the sound of her whisper.  
  
"Mmm?" he replied, almost daring her to by raising his eyebrows impishly.  
  
As she leaned down towards him, Orlando's lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. Yet, as her lips brought a tingling sensation to his, but failed to fully kiss him, Orlando's eyes opened and his mouth opened wider- in another gasp.  
  
Pushing her off him playfully at the same time as she rolled herself off of his chest. Orlando sighed with a mix of exasperation and frustration, as his blue eyes grew wide with both disappointment and longing.  
  
"Do you have even the slightest idea of what you're doing to me, Faithe?" Orlando asked, shaking his head at her.  
  
((Insert time here ))  
  
At Faithe's jump, Orlando's arm tightened around her, and he grinned. Reaching out his free hand, his fingers closed upon the receiver and brought it to his ear.  
  
"Yeah?" he answered, wondering who was calling them.  
  
Allowing a melodramatic sight to escape her lips, she grinned, "Yes. Yes I am." Which she was! Faithe absolutely adored the look he got on his face when she teased him; it was so...well, adorable. Sticking her tongue out at the exasperation he showed on his face, she finally divulged him. Moving in just as she had done, she finally allowed herself to give in to her own inclinations, and kissed him. Pulling back after sometime, she was surprised to find herself shaking slightly. Smiling, she rested her head on his shoulder, "No. What?"  
  
Reaching her hand over to the other side of him, she toyed with his hair gently as she stared at him. Until the phone rang...  
  
"Hi, hi!" A high pitched, hyperactive voice of a five year old girl squealed into the phone so loud the reciever vibrated slightly. A smirk crossed Faithe's face as she dove for the pillows, burying her head underneath. I'll let him deal with this one... "'Lando, 'lando, 'lando! Hi, hi! When you and Aunt Belle are dressed will you take me to FAO Schwarts? Please,please,please?" With every word that came out the young girl's mouth, her words grew even more exuberant. However, her tone mellowed remarkably as a pouty air filled her voice, "Daddy can't take me because he's busy with the theatre." Sniffling melodramativcally, Kaytlin waited to hear the 'yes' that she knew was coming.  
  
Considering the heightened volume the girl had been speaking with, Faithe was grinning like a fool underneath the pillow. She is going to have him wrapped around her pinky before the day is up...  
  
Casting a wary gaze at her as she moved towards him once more, Orlando was almost waiting for her to pull back. With each centimeter closer her face drew to him, he could feel passion coursing through his veins. Realizing that, at last, she wasn't just teasing him, a broad grin lit up his face. Reaching up, as he had just done, with his hand, he wound it around the back of her neck, guiding her lips to his as he closed his eyes. Returning the affection her lips radiated, he kissed her back vehemently, wrapping his other arm around her back, pulling her gently closer to his body. Following an eternity, he felt her back lifting itself up; after squeezing one last kiss in, he loosened his arm around her back, allowing her to break free.  
  
Feeling her body almost trembling, his arm remained upon her back, gently running up and down it as an amazed, contented, and enchanted smile crossed his lips in the midst of his breathing, which, wasn't at all heavy or labored, but, it was certainly obvious that he was left breathless. Turning his head so that he could meet her gaze as she lay upon his shoulder, Orlando offered her a knowing smirk in response as he exhaled.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure you can figure it out," he declared in a deep whisper, smiling as her fingers played with his hair..  
  
At the sound of Kaytlin's squeal, Orlando's eyeballs nearly bulged out of his head and his arm shot out about a foot, holding the receiver far away from him. Casting a glance at Faithe, he merely smirked as she buried herself in the pillows.  
  
"Hey, Kayte," he replied slowly.  
  
Listening to her adorable speech, Orlando's smirk melted into a sympathetic grin, partially because he felt bad that Jake couldn't take her himself, and partially because, even when he told her yes, she'd still have to wait quite sometime for himself and Faithe to get themselves ready to be seen in public.  
  
"Of course we will, Kayte," Orlando replied with a grin, winking at Faithe.  
  
Not ever having been around children much, the poor man failed to see how badly he was falling for the child's inadvertent manipulation skill. To him, the poor little girl just really wanted to go to the toy store. Seeing nothing wrong with that, he had presumed Faithe wouldn't either, and thus agreed.  
  
"It might be awhile though," he added as an afterthought, "We could pick you up around noon, go out for lunch and then swing by the toy store, if that's alright with your dad."  
  
Exhaling a deep breath, Faithe practically melted when he whispered. This was definitely something she could be content with for the rest of her life. Being so close to somebody emotionally, that even they were nice, words were often unnecessary. A simple touch on the arm, a simple smile; all held deeper meanings than most words could express. She adored it. Everything was still new to her, but it was an adventure. One that she enjoyed more than any African Safari she could ever experience.  
  
Laughing before the phone had even been hung up on the base, she tossed the pillow lightly at him. Propping herself up on her side, she grinned at him, tsk-ing and shaking her head. Reaching out the hand she wasn't leaning on, she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, trailing her fingers behind his ear, down his jawbone, and to the center of his chin.  
  
"She has you wrapped around her little pinky already." Leaning forward, she kissed his nose lightly, unable to contain the grin on her face. "Sucker. Kayte's going to have you spoiling her before this day is over." Stretching out her back one last time, a small squeak came out as she felt her muscles pull comfortably.  
  
Rolling off the bed, she stood up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I guess I should go take a shower. So we don't keep ou...darling Kayte waiting." Winking, turned towards the door and began walking towards the door. Biting her bottom lip, she pushed open the slightly ajar door. The words our darling Kayte had almost come out of her mouth on accident. Where did that come from?  
  
Hopping in the shower, there was a lot on her mind as she went through the routine. Things were definitely getting deep between the two. Is this something she really wanted? Her entire life, Faithe had tried to lose herself in books to avoid developing relationships of any sort. Of course, Orlando was so different. She was going out of her way to avoid keeping her nose in books all the time so she could get to know him. When the words I love you had come from his lips, she had almost felt dizzy from the ecstacy she'd felt inside of her. She truly did love him, there was no doubt about it. Being close to him was something she did truly want, and nothing could make her change that for anything. As hard as it was to see him five times a day, and not be able to openly affectionate with him was, she knew it would be almost unbearable to simply not have him there at all.  
  
As she toweled her hair dry, her brown eyes stared at her reflection studiously. Why her? Faithe didn't see herself as abnormally pretty, or unusually intellegant. What could there be about her that he was attracted to? In her opinion, Orlando deserved the best, and she knew that there were thousands of other females that were higher up than she. Sighing at herself, she walked back into her room.  
  
Wearing a pair of khaki's and a white, sleeveless button up shirt, she ran a brush through her wet hair. Walking out of her room, she walked casually towards the giant windows that overlooked the city. Staring out at the water, her thoughts turned to a ten year old little boy in Hawaii. How scary it must have been for him. Orlando had always seemed unbelievably wonderful to her from the start, but now that she knew how much he had suffered as a child, he seemed even more amazing. He was strong, dependant, and compassionate. Most children would have caved under the pressure he was put under, but Orlando was shaped into a loving, gentle man because of it. I would give anything in the world to make sure he never felt pain again...  
  
Hearing Faithe's endearing laughter, Orlando glanced over at her just in time to catch the airborne pillow before he hung the phone up. Grinning back at her and shaking his head, he gently threw it back at her, brilliant blue eyes getting that look of reverence in them once more. As her fingertips gently caressed his face, something he'd grown quite fond of, the grin thawed into a warm smile.  
  
"Does not!" Orlando retorted back with a look on his face that clearly said the opposite. "Eh, maybe just a little bit. But, come on, Faithe, she's five years old, and nearly a younger, miniature version of you; how could I not want to give her everything she wants?"  
  
Smirking playfully, he reached out for her just as she rolled off the bed.  
  
"Hey, where're ya going?" he whined.  
  
Not even catching her voice falter at the "darling Kayte" remark, Orlando just rolled his eyes and shrugged at her. If she wanted to go take a shower, he didn't really have a problem with it, they did, after all, only have a little over an hour before they had to go pick up Kaytlin. Waiting not a second after her back was turned, he sat up in bed and flicked the hair tie, which was still around his fingers, at her derrière, grinning uncontrollably. Before she could do anything about it, he leapt from the bed and ran into his own bathroom, flashing one last deviously satisfied grin at her before gently shutting the door.  
  
Nonchalantly untying his pants and letting them fall to the floor, he started the warm shower water and hopped in. He was overcome by thoughts just as Faithe was at the moment. From the moment they had met at the train station to just then in his bed, there hadn't been a single moment- save those in which Eddie was involved- that hadn't been extraordinary. He had learned so much about Faithe's life, and, being able to be close to her without any consequences, learned so much about Faithe herself as well. There wasn't anything about the girl he didn't like. True, she had her faults, as all people do, but, rather than finding fault with them, he merely saw them as adorable idiosyncrasies unique to his Faithe alone.  
  
Shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around his lower half, the man stepped out of the shower, smiling to himself. At the sight of the fogged- up mirror, the right side of his mouth twitched upward into a grin, and his finger scrawled a juvenile "O.L. + F. C." on it, outlining the initials with a heart. In all honesty, the man was completely smitten with her. Wiping a hand across the mirror, he cleared off room for him to actually use it the mirror as a mirror, rather than a sketchpad. Taking off the towel, he dried his hair most of the way with it before running a comb through the dark strands. Reaching on the left side of the sink, where he normally set a clean outfit, he bit in lip in pensive thought as he realized that he hadn't set an outfit there this morning.  
  
Hoping Faithe had shut the door on her way out, he flung the towel once more around his waist and darted out of the bathroom, grabbed his duffelbag, and back into the bathroom as quickly as he could, just in case she hadn't. Shutting the door once more, he ruffled through the bag, eventually procuring a plain white T-shirt and pair of dark jeans, which his haphazardly clad himself in. Glancing one last time in the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. Feeling the stubble, which, as promised, had reappeared, he couldn't help but grin. Just long enough to give his face that somewhat dark aspect, but not too long as to be a bother.  
  
Kicking the used clothing and towel into a pile on the ground, he exited the bathroom, half-hoping for Faithe to be lying on his bed, just as she had been last night when he'd walked out the very same door. Their relationship had become so much more over the course of the weekend thusfar. It had deepened from the somewhat casual one they had had at the school into a rather serious one, and, considering it for a moment, Orlando found himself pleased. He wanted this; he wanted Faithe. Waking up with her had only confirmed the thought that he could spend the rest of his life with her. Realizing this, an indescribably sincere smile crossed his face. Of course, he wouldn't just jump right into something like that, but, perhaps, after the school year was over, things had calmed down, and they no longer had to hide themselves from the world, he could propose the idea to her.  
  
Nearly giddy, he sauntered into the main foyer with almost a little hop to his step. Seeing Faithe, his grin only widened. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her slender waist, gently pulling her close to him as he leaned his head down, momentarily resting it comfortably upon her shoulder.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, kissing her neck.  
  
Pulling back and loosening his grasp on her waist, he smiled at her, sidestepping so that he was next to her.  
  
"What're you staring at?" he asked curiously, having noted her entranced gaze before he arrived.  
  
As he made a pathetic attempt to deny Kayte's influence, Faithe's expression carried a 'yeah right, don't even play like that,' expression. Laughing gently as he finally gave into the truth, she clucked her tongue as a look of pure adoration crossed her face. How much she loved him...  
  
A look of pure mischief crossed her face as a small grin curved onto her lips, "Does that mean I could ask you for anything and get it? I think I could handle that..." It was obvious there was playfulness in her tone. "Maybe I will keep you around for a little while." Winking, she stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
Feeling the hairband hit her derrière, a melodramatic gasp escaped her mouth as she turned around, a look of disbelief in her eyes. Watching him sprint to the bathroom, the look of astonishment melted away into a warm smile that plainly said 'I love you.'  
  
Completely lost in her own thoughts, his footsteps had gone unheard as Orlando came up behind her. Feeling his arms around her, she relaxed against him, a small smile playing faintly at her lips. She noticed that when he was around her, she couldn't stop smiling. This was also new to her. Sure, she laughed and smiled just like everybody else, but nobody could make her smile as much as Orlando, and she loved it.  
  
Hearing those words whispered in her ear, a feeling of complete devotion towards the man who's lips spoke them so sweetly rippled through her body. Something inside of her told her that this was how it would always be. The two of them together, complete devotion for one another, that undying love that she knew would never fade. There would be rocks in the road, yes, but she didn't doubt for a moment that they would get through it together. A small, objective groan escaped her lips as he let go of her and stood beside her.  
  
"I was just looking at the water. It's so...hypnotic sometimes. I get caught up in the rhythmic sparkled from the sun's reflection." Speaking softly, she finally tore her eyes from the water, pushing the thoughts of a small boy being attacked by a shark. Wrapping her arm around his, she rested her head on the side of his arm.  
  
"You ready to head over there?"  
  
But of course," Orlando replied, not missing a beat as a genuine sparkle shone in his brilliant blue eyes. "Anything you want, darling..."  
  
At her groan, Orlando turned his head towards her, rolling his eyes, but still smiling.  
  
"If you're going to moan and groan about it, how are you ever going to be able to make it through the day when we get back to Rosencrantz? I won't even be able to hold your hand after tomorrow; you'll be suffering from extreme Orlando withdrawal."  
  
There was a teasing undertone to his jovial voice, complemented by a slight chuckle, but it did hold some genuineness to it. One the following day had ended, he knew, the two would have to go back to feigning that they were nothing more than a teacher and student whose passions both lay in the field of Astronomy. The weekend, thusfar, had been wonderful, not only because of the course of events, but because neither of them had had to keep themselves in check in any way, shape or form; they were free to be their true selves, acting on impulse, and not worrying that anyone was watching them.  
  
Casting a wary glance out at the water Faithe was entranced by, Orlando nodded. It certainly was hypnotic, but, for him, at least, not in a good way. Instead, he was plagued with flashbacks of the past. Closing his eyes for a moment, to clear his mind, he re-opened them only once Faithe's arm was around his. Reaching his free arm around his chest, he gently took her hand in his, entangling their fingers together with a warm smile. Like Faithe, Orlando found it near impossible to keep himself from smiling in her presence.  
  
Lifting his left arm just slightly, and taking great care not to make Faithe think he was trying to shake her arm off it or anything of the sort, his eyes flitted to the leather-banded watch on its wrist. Opening his mouth to reply, an inadvertent yawn escaped his lips, which closed shortly afterwards into a sheepish smile.  
  
"We have a little over a half-hour," he replied, "So I guess it depends on how we're going. I'd just have us apparate over there- can you apparate yet? Or hasn't that been worked into the seventh year curriculum yet?"  
  
"Eh, it doesn't really matter, I suppose; I'm sure Kayte can't do that yet, and I wouldn't want her getting splinched if one of us had to apparate her through the city. Not to mention it might look a little odd."  
  
Pausing for a moment to offer her a grin as he realized that he had just been rambling for the past minute or so, he shook his head.  
  
"I'm such a wizard," he declared with a laugh, "You're the muggle-y one, why don't you decide how we're traveling? I'm ready to go whenever you are."  
  
Shoving him lightly at his comment about school, she poked him gently in the side. "Now, why did you have to bring that up, Professor Lorenz?" Shooting him a sulky look, she crossed her arms. "I hate all the secrecy." Turning towards him, her pout turned into a small smile, "But it's worth it as long as I get you." Winking, she reached down and took his hand. Kissing his knuckle softly, she squeezed it before letting him go.  
  
Raising her eyebrow as he talked, and talked, and continued to talk, a loving, amused expression crossed her face. Laughing silently, she shook her head. "Nope. Can't learn how to apparate until after graduation." Sticking her tongue out, she rolled her eyes. "If you want, we can apparate over there, and then just take the subway and walk to the toy store. There's this restaraunt a few blocks from the store called Jeckyl and Hyde. They put on a show while you eat that tells the story of the litary work about Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde. Kayte loves it." ((Ah...so good! Just don't try their veggie burger...it's gross!))  
  
Grinning as he called her the 'muggle-y' one, she shook her head slightly. "Muggle-y? What an astute word for a man with your intellectual calibar." Winking, she pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Hoping he wouldn't fall over, she hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. Biting his shoulder gently, she giggled.  
  
Laughing as her poke ticked his side, Orlando squirmed slightly, darting a "hey!" glance at Faithe.  
  
"I do too, ma Foi," he replied somewhat sorrowfully. "But, just think, in less than a month, you'll have graduated, and we can do whatever we want together in public."  
  
Offering her a mischievous grin, he shrugged.  
  
"Provided that it's in good taste, of course..."  
  
Punctuating the statement with an impish wink of his own, Orlando shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
Sighing with superfluous frustration at her inability to apparate, he rolled his eyes.  
  
"So," he declared, in a tone that clearly told her he was teasing, "you want me to apparate you and me all the way over to Jake's? Do you know how much energy it takes to apparate my fat body alone?"  
  
Grinning at his revival of that morning's joke, he continued.  
  
"Plus, there's always the chance of us splinching together... then we'd literally be a part of each other forever."  
  
Sheepishly smiling at her, he raised his eyebrows, anticipating a comment about the corniness.  
  
"Don't ever start with me," he said, "You've done much worse..."  
  
As she told him about the potential restaurant, he nodded.  
  
"Sounds good to me."  
  
At her comment about his use of the "word" "muggle-y", a soft blush rouged his cheeks. She was right, and he knew it.  
  
"Uff!"  
  
A surprised grunt escaped his mouth as Faithe jumped onto him, yet his arms instinctively wrapped themselves around the young woman's back, holding her tightly against him. Turning his head, his eyebrows rose quizzically as she nibbled on his shoulder, shaking his head at her.  
  
"Your quondam exegesis did hold a certain amount of veracity," he replied, "My vocabulary is quite capacious, but I aggrandize not exploiting it."  
  
Smirking almost arrogantly for a moment, he shook his head and planted a gentle kiss upon her forehead.  
  
Giving him a rather sassy expression at his fat comment, she stuck her tongue out at him. Slapping him in the shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed together as a glare that purely said 'I could never be mat at you,' crossed her face. Laughing at the talk of being joined for eternity, she grinned at him.  
  
"I don't mind spending forever with you, but I would like to actually enjoy your company from my stand point." Winking, her eyes held that look of adoration as she reached up, toying with his hair.  
  
Laughing even more at his sentance that sounded fresh from a thesaraus, she shook her head, finding it even more humerous because she understood the words that were coming out of her mouth. Lifting her head, she sighed melodramitcally, "Such a romantic, you are." Sticking her tongue out, she touched the tip of his nose with the tip of her tongue.  
  
"Beam us up, Scotty." Winking, she grinned, "Do your magic."  
  
Beaming, Orlando's eyes gleamed with happiness as Faithe spoke of spending forever with him. 'Good,' he thought to himself, knowing that the young woman hadn't a clue that he was taking her comment so literally. The more he thought about it, the more that Orlando liked the idea of marrying Faithe. Sure, they were still very young, but he knew he would never love anyone more than Isabelle Faithe Cunningham.  
  
As Faithe laughed at his obscure words, Orlando just grinned.  
  
"You know I'm a sap," he replied, wrinkling hs nose up at the touch of her tongue, "I speak fluent French, how could I not be a hopeless romantic?  
  
"Besides," he added, letting his voice shift from a normal voice at a moderate volume to a deep octave whisper as he spoke into her ear, "You know you enjoy it completely..."  
  
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he readujsted her position on him and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening his eyes for a moment, he smirked at her.  
  
"Cross your fingers and hope we don't splinch," he whispered, gently guiding her head back to his shoulder, and, then, keeping his hand upon it.  
  
With another deep breath and a close of his eyes, the man concentrated all his energy on apparating the pair to Jake's. As slight groan escaped his lips, he opened his eyes and ran his fingers through Faithe's hair. They had reached there destination without splinching; that was always a plus...  
  
"Well, well, well. aren't we Mr. Ego today?" Grinning, she winked to show that she was just teasing him. "I speak fluent English. I know quite a bit of Latin, but it's not a spoken language anymore." Sticking her tongue out again, she wrinkled her nose, laughing. A small whine escaped her mouth when his voice dropped to his low octave, her stomach feeling jittery. Gah...Adorable...  
  
Allowing him to lay her head on his shoulder, she laughed at his talk about splinching. Closing her eyes, she wapped her arms tighter around him. Her stomach jolted just as it had done eveytime the two had ever apparated. Hearing him groan, her first thoughts were that something had gone wrong. Sitting up quickly, her eyes opened almost as quickly. Finding that everything was normal, she looked at him with a look of concern.  
  
Reaching out, she ran her hand along his jawline softly, her brown eyes searching his face. "Are you alright?"  
  
At her question, Orlando's eyes closed and his arms relaxed around Faithe's waist. Laying his head upon her shoulder, he let out a small breath. Gently tapping her derriére with his hand, he insinuated for her to get off and slid her body down off of him. Although his arms weren't providing any support for her, he didn't fully let goof her until he felt her feet upon the ground. Despite the fact that he had apparted both of them the same distance the ast night, for some reason it appeared that this time had taken more out of the man. Slowly lifting his head up off her shoulder, he managed a weak nod.  
  
"I'll survive," he said quietly. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he laid a hand upon her shoulder to steady himself as his head turned away.  
  
Oh, this was too much fun...  
  
Knowing that he couldn't keep up this devious little prank for much longer, as he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he took another deep breath then swallowed.  
  
Suddenly, without warning, he turned back towards her and wrapped her up in his arms, spinning her halfway around and dipping her down, as one might do in some sort of ballroom dance, and kissing her warmly. Pulling her back up, a broad grin shone brightly over his face.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered with the lower octave of his voice, "An opportunity like that was too good to pass up..."  
  
As soon as her feet hit the ground, Faithe's eyebrows furrowed together in a great look of worry and concern. Cupping his face in her hands, she brought her face closer to his, looking in his eyes. "Orlando? What's wrong?" Running her thumb gently along his cheek, she braced herself a little bit better when he placed his hands on her shoulders. She was about two seconds away from calling Jake for help. Opening her mouth to do so, a rather loud squeal escaped her lips as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.  
  
Her arms flew instinctively around his neck as he spun her around, her nose wrinkling as she grinned. Feeling a shiver run through her spine as he kissed her, that warm feeling spread through every part of her body. Whimpering slightly as he used that darn voice, she offered him a look of reverance.  
  
"Aw, honey," Speaking in an innocent voice, she kissed his ear in a tantalizing fashion, "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Pushing him away, she smacked him somewhat harshly in his shoulder. Crossing her arms, she attempted a glare in his direction, but there was nothing but adoration and love in her brown eyes.  
  
The door flew open, and as Faithe turned, a small body was wrapped around her legs. Flailing her arms, she managed to find the wall with one of them and prevent the two of them from tumbling to the floor.  
  
"Aunt Belle!" Jumping up and down, Kaytlin grinned as she let go of her legs. Reaching her arms up, an impatient expression crossed the girl's face as she waited for Faithe to pick her up. Obliging the five year old, Faithe swung her onto her left hip, Kayte wasting no time to rub her nose against Faithe's.  
  
"Hey sweet pea," Despite herself, her Texan accent shown through with her comment, but went unnoticed by her. She had a tendancy to do that quite a bit, but unless it was really bad, she never seemed to notice the southern accent. "You ready for some lunch? Then the toy store!" Grinning, Faithe began walking inside the door, motioning with her head for Orlando to follow her. Closing the door with her foot, she allowed the wiggling girl down.  
  
Kaytlin wasted no time in flinging herself at Orlando, practically crawling up the man's legs. "Guess what? The tooth fairy came last night and brought me FIVE DOLLARS!" Squealing, she clapped her hands. "I saved my money from my last two teeth, and now I have fifteen! Which meand I can buy a new toy! Are you gonna buy a new toy today too?"  
  
Hearing Faithe's slight whimper, a satisfied smirk appeared on Orlando's tanned face. Although he wasn't nearly as good as teasing her as she him, it was nice to know that at least he had one weapon to fight her entire arsenal of cuteness with. Not to mention the fact that he liked utilizing the rarely used octave of his voice...  
  
At the touch of her lips upon his ear, a shiver rippled down the man's spine, reminding him that Faithe did indeed have at least one up on him in that realm. Grinning as she pushed him away, he was almost tempted to drop her, but, instead, helped her to her feet before relinquishing his grasp. Gasping and rubbing his shoulder in moderate pain, Orlando gaped at her.  
  
"Ow!" he exclaimed, trying to glare at her. Yet, when his attempted glare met hers, he couldn't help but smile at her.  
  
As the door flung open, Orlando was jolted back to reality. He and Faithe were not on a deserted island and there were other people to consider. Grateful that the door hadn't opened a few seconds earlier, the man let out a pleasant sigh.  
  
Chuckling slightly at Kaytlin's endless energy, Orlando cast a glance over at Faithe, grinning even more at her Texan lilt. Adorable... Watching on with an incessant smile as Faithe nearly toppled with the addition of Kayte's tiny weight, he couldn't help but laugh.  
  
As Kayte shimmed down off of Faithe, Orlando knew exactly what was coming. Reaching out his arms, he picked the squirming girl up at the moment she reached his leg. Spinning her around, not unlike he had done to Faithe on more than one occassion, there was a sort of sparkle in his eyes.  
  
"Really? That must have been a really special tooth then," Orlando commented, grinning broadly as he hoisted the tiny girl onto his side. Following Faithe down the stairs ((god-moding, yeah... so sue me)), he shook his head at her question.  
  
"I don't know, Kayte," he replied with a smile, "Maybe if your 'Aunt Belle' will let me, I'll get another model rocket..."  
  
Casting a mischievous yet content glance at Faithe, Orlando winked. It was almost scary how much of a father he looked like...  
  
Jake walked out at the sound of voices, smiling in a warm greeting at the people now gathered in his living room. Hugging Faithe, he nodded towards Orlando. He would have offered his hand, but there seemed to be a small child leeched onto the poor man. Faiteh grinned at Kayte.  
  
"I remember one time the tooth fairy did the strangest thing. I was so disapointed. I woke up one morning, it was my 5th birthday, and instead of money, she had left me a kernal of corn." There was a perplexed expression on the young woman's face as she recalled how upset she had gotten over the matter. Jake, however, burst out laughing.  
  
"That's because I snuck into your room and stole your money. I didn't want to leave you empty handed, so I gave you the piece of corn." Watching his sister's face contort into a gasp, he quickly took a step back as Faithe heaved a nearby pillow at him. Running for the door, he ducked past her, "Have fun!"  
  
Down on the road, Faithe looked at Orlando and Kayte, an admiring expression on her face. He would be such a great father one day. At his rocket comment, she poked her bottom lip out, speaking in a sulky voice, "Only if I get a teddy bear." An innocent smile spread over her face as she stepped in closer to him, reaching out for his hand. Intertwining her fingers with his, she couldn't help but see the perfection in the picture. I could definitely live with having a family with this man...  
  
"Then it's settled," speaking with a firm sense of authority, Kayte nodded importantly. Well, she showed as much authority as a five year old could get away with. Reaching out her tiny hand, she fidgeted with Orlando's hair. "I want a dolly." Nodding vigorously, a pensive stare crossed the girl's brown eyes. "With brown hair, like mine."  
  
Ah, the amusement of a brother-sister squabble...  
  
Despite the fact that he had had two siblings, Orlando had never known anything of that sort. His brother, Eric, who was older than him by about four years, had always found him too nerdy. There had once been a time when the two had gotten along... up until Orlando had decided that he wasn't interested in football and would rather spend his days building model rockets.  
  
That left his sister, Tiara, who was seven years his junior- a mistake on his parents' part. But, after realizing that Orlando wasn't exactly what they had been looking for in a child, they hardly held it against her. Orlando and Tiara had never really gotten along, but that was because they hadn't ever been given the chance. By the time Tiara was born, Orlando was already the family punching bag, and, not being considered worthy, hand't ever spent any time one-on-one with his little sister.  
  
Grinning, he offered a nod to Jake as the man blew past him on his way out of the apartment.  
  
"Of course, ma Foi," he replied with a smile, "I'll buy you the biggest teddy bear there."  
  
Taking her hand in his, he couldn't help but feel his face light up as she entangled their fingers. Gently pulling her closer to him, he laid his head on hers for a brief moment with a calm, contented sigh. There was some innate part of him that saw this perfect little picture as the rest of his life, only, instead of Kayte, there would be a little Lorenz offspring perched upon his hip.  
  
Hearing Kayte's important-sounding voice, he lifted his head off Faithe and turned it towards her. Not being able to prevent it, a small chuckle that escaped his lips. Too cute... Then, as her fingers reached for his hair, gently toying with it, he couldn't help but cast a quizzical glance at Faithe as if to tell her that she had indeed worn off on the girl.  
  
"Alright, Kayte," Orlando answered with a grin, nodding his head, "Maybe we can even find a doll that looks just like you!"  
  
After walking a little while longer, they finally arrived at the subway station. As the door opened, Orlando goofily spun Faithe inside, then following in with Kaytlin still in his arms. Pointing Faithe towards a gathering of empty seats, he, too, walked over, sitting down and setting Kayte upon his lap.  
  
Laughing at his comment, she shook her head. "Well thank you sweetheart, but I don't really care to carry around an eight foot bear." Reaching up, she kissed his cheek, winking. "Something I can sleep with will do." Since last night won't be happening again for a long time. ((Ehh... that sounded bad...lol But you know what I meant!))  
  
"Ewww!" Kayte's voice startled Faithe as she cried out all of a sudden. "You kissed him! Icky! Get a cootie shot!" Rolling her eyes as she laughed, Faithe stuck her tongue out at her adorable niece. Before they reached the subway, Faithe darted to the other side of Orlando, kissing Kayte all over her face. Grinning as the girl squirmed in Orlando's arms, Faithe darted back across Orlando, taking her place by his side with her hand back in his. "Aunt Belle! Now I need a cootie shot!"  
  
As they entered the station, Kayte was mutter to herself, although the words 'circle, circle, dot, dot...' could be heard. Winking at Orlando, Faithe blew him a silent kiss. Giggling as he spun her inside the train, Faithe shook her head, a look of adoration on her face. Sitting down, she watched him walk towards her, Kayte in tow. As soon as the man had sat down, Kayte scooted onto his lap, resting her head on his chest.  
  
"Uh oh, I think I have some competition." Reaching down, she tickled Kayte in the sides, pulling her over into her lap. Squealing, Kayte wriggled as Faithe tickled her mercilessly.  
  
"Not fair! You're bigger-n-me!" Talking between squeal, Kaytlin made a futile attempt to reach behind her and tickle Faithe. Laughing, Faithe wrapped her arms around the little girl, looking down and sticking her tongue out at her. Kayte wrinkled her nose in response, grinning as she proudly showed off that missing tooth. "Are we eating at Heckly and Jyde?"  
  
Giggling, Faithe nodded. "Yes sweets, we're eating at Jeckel and Hyde." Correcting the girl gently, she brushed a strand of hair out of her own eyes.  
  
"That's what I said, Heckly and Jyde." Checking her pockets to make sure her tooth money was still there, she nodded to herself, satisfied. "I'm hungry." Looking at Orlando, she tugged on his shirt sleeve, "Are you hungry? I am hungry."  
  
Shaking her with amusement, Faithe scooted up against Orlando, resting her head on his shoulder. This was too perfect...  
  
"Something you can sleep with, eh?" Orlando repeated, nudging her shoulder as he flashed a slightly suggestive glance at her. Grinning, he shook his head. Had Kayte not been there, he probably would've made some sort of growl at her and a slightly more suggestive comment, but Orlando did have some sort of class, and, thus, kept his comments clean. Or, at least, clean enough where Kayte wouldn't get any of them. "I think that can be arranged..."  
  
Feeling Faithe's lips upon his cheek, the man evitably blushed as he smiled at her. Their romantic little moment, however, was broken by Kayte's squeal, which, in turn, prompted a grin from Orlando's lips.  
  
"Cooties?" he repeated, casting a confused glance at Faithe. Poor Orlando... Never having grown-up in the Muggle World, he hadn't the slightest clue what the cooties legend was all about. But, after seeing a similiar response from Kayte after Faithe had kissed her, he presumed it was something associated with kissing.  
  
As Faithe blew him the kiss, Orlando wrapped his left arm tighter around Kayte in order to reach up with his right hand and snatch the invisible kiss out of mid-air. Placing his fingers upon his lips, he winked at Faithe.  
  
Feeling Kayte's head upon his chest, one of Orlando's arms loosely encircled her waist, winding its way around the girl's tiny body and eventually ending up with his fingers stroking her hair.  
  
Smirking at Faithe's comment about competition, Orlando shrugged and raised his eyebrows at Faithe. Then, as Faithe's arms reached over to tickle Kaytlin, he aided her and picked the small girl up at the same time as Faithe did, helping her into her lap.  
  
Amused by Kaytlin's childish speech, he smiled at Faith, silently sharing one of those glances with her.  
  
"A little bit," Orlando replied, looking down at Kaytlin again, "Although I did have some rather well made French toast for breakfast this morning..."  
  
Winking out of the corner of his eye at Faithe, he smiled as she scootched closer to him, letting a small, content sigh pass through his lips. Casually draping an arm over her shoulders, his fingers tapped themselves on her arm for a moment before his full hand fell upon her skin, gently rubbing up and down her shoulder a few times before finally finding a comfortable place.  
  
"And your aunt had a few delightful grapes..."  
  
Laughing slightly, he laid his head upon Faithe's for a moment, then lifted it back up.  
  
Feeling her face turn red, she couldn't look him in the eyes for fear of laughing. "Yes, something to sleep with." Finally looking at him, she raised her left eyebrow in a daring sort of way. "You see, the teddy bear I slept with last night is no longer at my disposal." Speaking softly, she winked at him, shaking her head with a grin as he 'caught' her kiss.  
  
"Eh...Don't worry about it." Chuckling at his confusion over cooties, she merely shook her head.  
  
She wished she had a camera as she looked admiringly at the two snuggling up next to her. A warm smile spread over her lips before she stole her niece. The past couple days Faithe had become even more enamored with the remarkable man. He was perfect. Kayte loved him to bits, and simply seeing him with the child made Faithe's thoughts immediately drift to what a great father he would be.  
  
Wrinkling her nose, Kayte shook her head, "I don't like grapes. I do like french toast though! Mmmm...syrup!Daddy always says I look like a mess after I eat syrup."  
  
"Ha! Look like a mess? My baby doll, you are a mess after you eat syrup." Poking her niece in the belly, she winked at Orlando.  
  
After a relatively short subway ride, Faithe stood up as the train slowed. "This is our stop." As Kayte hopped down, she faced Faithe almost immediately and reached her arms up. Wrapping her hands around Kayte's wrists, she pulled her up and swung her around to where the girl was on her back. Pulling Kaytlin's arms around her neck, she waited for the girl to get situation on her back before walking forward.  
  
Giggling, Kayte looked behind to make sure Orlando was following. Walking up the steps, she fell in step with Orlando, turning right at the top on the street.  
  
"It's less than a half a block up this way." Speaking as she watched, she allowed her knees to give slightly under her, keeping Kayte 'on her toes.' Hearing the child squeal and then laugh, Faithe couldn't help but grin.  
  
Reaching the front door, she knelt down so Kaytlin could hop off her back. Taking the girl's hand, she walked into the door. Kaytling reached over with her free hand and took Orlando's hand in hers, giving her plenty of reason to occasionally hang in mid-air.  
  
"Mm-hmm," Orlando replied, nodding his head, "Actually, I'm sure the teddy bear you were snuggled up next to last night wouldn't mind being used for another night..." Planting a gentle kiss on top of her head, he grinned somewhat deviously.  
  
Chuckling at the mental image of a syrup-covered Kaytlin, Orlando rolled his eyes.  
  
"That's alright, Kayte," he replied, "I always seem to be a mess after fixing French toast for some reason..." His voice was slightly innocent, as though he had absolutely no clue what could possibly be messy about French toast, yet the smirk he shared with Faithe gave it away. "...even when we don't eat it with syrup."  
  
Shaking his head with amusement as Kayte glanced back at him while he followed the pair, Orlando smiled back at her. Turning the corner in step with Faithe, he nodded at her telling him that it wouldn't be too far.  
  
Wrapping his fingers around Kayte's tiny wrist as the small girl grabbed his hand, Orlando cast a glance over at Faithe. Mouthing the words "one, two, three", he lifted his hand up, presuming Faithe would do the same, as they crossed the doorframe into the restaurant.  
  
Casually chatting with the host, the trio was soon led over to a rather nice little table near the "stage". Nodding again at Faithe, he swung Kaytlin up into one of the chairs. Then, quickly grabbing Faithe's hand, spun her around and into another chair, making a habit out of spinning her. He'd have to take her swing-dancing sometime, he supposed.  
  
Swing-dancing was one of Orlando's little-known passions. During his relationship with Demeter, he'd be conned into going to swing dance clubs for their date on more than one occassion and had found himself to both be rather good at and enjoy it.  
  
Graciously taking the menus from the host, he handed the childrens' menu to Kayte and one of the two larger one's to Faithe.  
  
"So," he asked, "what's good here?"  
  
Opening her mouth, a tiny squeak came out as she made an attempt to object, her mouth closing with a small smile. "I still maintain that I would have been better off had you not come tackling me on the bed." Feeling her face turn pink, she couldn't help but give him a look of agreement about the 'teddy bear.' "I would love to cuddle with the teddy bear again."  
  
Lifting Kayte along with Orlando, she smiled as the little girl became giddy with excitment, especially when she was lifted into the seat. Giggline as he once again spun her, Faithe noticed herself spotting as she spun quickly on her toes. Always using her technique, Faithe had undoubtedly labeled herself a dork. Taking her seat, she thanked the host for the menues.  
  
"I want chicken fingers." Kayte announced to half the restraunt without opening her menu.  
  
"That's fine baby doll." Leaning forward, she whispered her next words, "But let's not talk so loudly everybody can hear us, alright?" Winking, she reached out and tweaked the little girl's nose.  
  
Giggling, Kayte nodded as she placed both her hands over her mouth.  
  
"They have really good hamburgers. Most their food is great, but I wouldn't suggest the Veggie Burger." Sticking her tongue out, Faithe wrinkled her nose at the memory of the cardboard taste she could vividely recall. Slipping her foot across the table, underneath it of course, she gently nudged Orlando's foot.  
  
A blonde waitress came to the table wearing a fake smile and enough make-up to make a clown jealous. "Good afternoon!" Speaking in a rather high pitched voice, the blonde reminded Faithe strangely of Ivy. Looking at Orlando, she offered an extra smile, tossing her hair rather suggestively. Offering no apologetic look to Faithe, or even acknowledging her existence, she asked if they were ready to order.  
  
Not able to help himself, Orlando laughed nearly as loudly as Kayte had spoken when the girl announced her meal choice to the whole city. Slapping a hand over his mouth, he could feel his cheeks warm with a slight blush. Wiping his hand down his face, he offered Faithe a sheepish smile.  
  
Casually opening and perusing the the menu, he nodded at Faithe's comment, sticking out his tongue at her remark about the vegetarian choice.  
  
"I pride myself on being an omnivore," Orlando replied with a smirk, insinuating that he wouldn't dream of ordering something vegetarian, "So I think I'll probably just stick with a normal American hamburger..."  
  
Feeling something hit his foot, he instinctively presumed it was Faithe's. Wrapping his foot around hers, he gently moved his ankle along the lower part of her leg, toying with her and punctuating the fun with a wink.  
  
Seeing the waitress approach, Orlando immediately went into a coughing spasm, which was, clearly, faked. Recovering quickly as the waitress spoke, he cast a look at Faithe before looking up at the ditzy woman.  
  
At the woman's suggestive gestures, Orlando merely nodded back with a polite smile before reaching his hand over and setting it on Faithe's thigh, clearly telling the waitress that he wasn't at all interested.  
  
"Are you ready, darling?"  
  
After allowing her time to response, Orlando cast his glance up towards the waitress once more, wondering how anyone could wear that much stuff on their face.  
  
"I'll have a well-done hamburger and a coke," he replied, making sure to let the woman catch him making "googly-eyes" at Faithe.  
  
Grinning as he stuck out his tongue, Faithe leaned over to where her mouth was less than an inch from his and growled softly. "Watch it. I might think you're offering." Winking, she went back to looking at her menu. Laughing silently at their game of footsie underneath the table, Faithe had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. Adorable...simply adorable...  
  
Biting her bottom lip as Orlando made quite the spectacle, Faithe's adoration for him grew. Smiling warmly at him, she nodded in response to his question. Looking over at Kayte, she smiled at the five year old who had started entertaining herself tearing the corners of her paper napkin. "Sweetheart, do you want to order?" Speaking in that voice that was reserved for Kaytlin, Faithe looked at her quizzicly. Kayte looked up and nodded vigorously.  
  
"Uh huh! I want chicken fingers! With barlebeque sauce, please." She had straightened her posture to look more important. Kayte hardly ever got to order for herself, and it always made her feel important when she was allowed. Grinning, Faithe shook her head in amusement, catching a glare from Barbie Doll Waitress.  
  
Sighing in impatience, the woman looked at Faithe with the utmost look of loathing, "Plan on ordering?" That look impatience radiated in the waitresses voice as she spoke to Faithe; Faithe's eyebrow raised slightly at the rudeness this girl was treating her customers with. Tempted to stoop to her level, Faithe fought the urge to take her sweet and petty time.  
  
"I would like the Cajun Chicken Salad, no onion, with ranch." Watching the waitress roll her eyes when she thought she wasn't being watched, Faithe made a mental note to make a phone call to the manager later.  
  
"Drink?"  
  
"Rootbeer." Smiling adoringly at Orlando, Faithe winked. It took every ounce of will power she had within her to keep from bursting into fits of laughter at Orlando's face. His 'googly' eyes were so corny, but she loved it. I love it...I love him.  
  
Feeling Faithe's face so close to his own, it took more self-control than Orlando had thought not to pull her into a kiss right there. The reason he didn't do so, though, wasn't, as one may have believed, Kayte, but rather the sheer PDA factor. Orlando was, obviously, a typically rather shy person when not in the sole company of people he was comfortable with, and, therefore wouldn't dream of doing something of the sort in public, yet Faithe was tempting him so badly.especially with that growl of hers. Upon hearing it, his stomach flipped and he had to fight the urge to melt in his chair and regain his composure.  
  
"Think I'm offering?" he repeated incredulously. Smirking to himself, he reached a hand inside the inner pocket of his jacket and "swish-and- flick"ed his wand ((note- the jacket pocket was not at such a level where one could wrongly interpret the visual that moving it created)), then procured some off-brand wizards' version of Starbursts. Handing a couple to Kayte, primarily to occupy the girl for a moment, he stuck one, still- wrapped, into his mouth, closing it; after the span of about thirty seconds, his mouth re-opened and he procured the wrapper, which was, though not at all mangled, rather wet. Raising his eyebrows suggestively as his proudly displayed the paper wrapper to Faithe for a moment, and then setting it down on the table, he grinned that boyish grin of his.  
  
"Ma cherie Foi, I most certainly am. but remind me later, because this isn't exactly the proper place." he added, using that infamous low register he had in an attempt to combat Faithe's teasing with some of his own as he placed his other foot atop hers, winking.  
  
As Kayte ordered, Orlando couldn't help but share one of those revering gazes with Faithe. For all the trouble people claim little children to be, their sheer juvenile ingenuity and youthful view of the world certainly had to make up for whatever sort of bother they could be. In Orlando's eyes, at least, Kaytlin wasn't the slightest bit of trouble; in fact, she was a little angel.  
  
At the waitress' bitter, indignant words, Orlando raised his head to look at her with somewhat of a curious glance, near identical to that which Faithe gave the woman, as though he would never have expected such a harsh tone to escape her lips. At Faithe's polite reply, Orlando's fingers, which had been on her thigh, nonchalantly crept up and, if need be, stealthily grabbed her elbow and gently pulled her arm (if her hand was on the table) before entangling his fingers with hers as a silent symbol of reverence. Her patience and self-control were truly admirable.  
  
Sighing mentally, he caught the waitress' eyes meeting his gaze and, therefore, resumed making his brilliant blue eyes into cartoon-like ones in an enamored gaze, directed only at Faithe. As the waitress turned and walked away, Orlando let out a sigh and grinned at Faithe.  
  
"Wow." he breathed, shaking his head, "I wonder if she'd still find me attractive if she knew how much of an astronomer I am.  
  
"Anyways, did you think I made it clear that I wasn't interested?"  
  
Oh my goodness... She couldn't help the look of longing in her face as she grinned at the wrapper. It took every ounce of will power to keep her from pouncing on him right then and there and kissing him. A quiet noise escaped her lips as he tantalized her with his voice, her eyes glaring at him. Of course, that glare was accentuated with a complete look of adoration and love.  
  
Her leg twitched as his hand moved up her thigh, his hand tickling her. Feeling his fingers intertwine with hers, Faiteh squeezed his hand gently. Laughing at his comment, she reached up and pinched his cheeks, "Of course she would! You're just too adorable..." Talking as if she were talking to a baby, Faithe wrinkled her nose as she grinned.  
  
Getting a thoughtful expression on her face at his question, she bobbed her head side to side as if  
  
deciding on her answer. Looking at him, her face broke out in a warm smile as she leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly. "I love you." Winking as she whispered, she moved her toe up to his shin, poking it gently.  
  
The waitress swung their drinks by quickly, her body coming within inches of Orlando's as she set down his drink. After she left, Faithe grabbed the cherry by the stem that was in her Rootbeer. Smirking, she pulled the cherry off the stem, chewing it quickly and swallowing it. Sticking the stem in her mouth, she smirked as she worked the stem with her tongue. After about 45 seconds, she pulled the stem out of her mouth, displaying the two knots she had tied with it. The left side of her mouth was crooked up in a flirtatious grin as she winked at him.  
  
"I want a donkey." Kayte's small voice piped up randomly as she looked up from her napkin. Her head tilted curiously as she sipped on her drink, then went back to making tiny paper balls with the bits of her napkin, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had just said anything.  
  
Faithe's lusting look prompted a satisfied smirk to overcome Orlando's face, proud of himself for not being all that bad at teasing her, and even more prideful in regards to the fact that he could speak in that lower register solely due to the effect it had on Faithe.  
  
Feeling her hand gently tugging on his cheeks, Orlando chuckled as he shook his head and planted a gentle kiss upon her nose before recoiling into his chair, away from her hands.  
  
"Adorable?" he repeated, almost in a whining tone, "What happened to 'sexy'?" Dropping down the octave for that last word, Orlando raised his eyebrows several times in succession, trying to be Hollywood's version of sexy by throwing in one of those smirks, but failing miserably, although he still was able to offer something in the dork-ish realm of sexiness.  
  
Feeling the more than pleasant sensation of her lips upon his cheek, Orlando reached out a hand and ran it down the side of her face simultaneously.  
  
"A toi aussi, ma Foi," Orlando replied with a grin, letting a small laugh escape his lips as her toe touched his leg.  
  
At the waitress's proximity, Orlando felt slightly uncomfortable, which could be detected by the way he leaned away from her, cringing ever so slightly. Exchanging a glance with Faithe as the waitress left, the look the glance had held turned into one of curiousity, watching as she stuck the cherry's stem in her mouth.  
  
At the stem's presentation, Orlando's mouth simply hung open. He was impressed, most certainly, but, more than that, he found himself falling for her charms almost to the point where he would forgo dignity and kiss her feverishly in the restaurant... almost. Instead, he simply shook his head in awe.  
  
"You are going to teach me how to do that, right?" he asked, innocently enough, though his eyes held an impish quality within them.  
  
Kayte's youthful naivity brought a large grin to Orlando's face as he shook his head and reverted his attention to Faithe, amazed look in his eyes again.  
  
"You can make donkeys?!?"  
  
Smiling as he whined about her choice of words, she poked out her lip and made it tremble in loving mockery. "Aw, you're very sexy," winking as a mischevious expression crossed her face, she leaned over, bringing her mouth to his ear, "Orlando," speaking low, she purred his name. Teasing and being flirtatious was so much fun in the public because nothing could be done about it. Which asmused Faithe tremendously.  
  
Biting her lip to keep from laughing at Orlando's reaction to the waitress' closeness, Faithe kept her eye contact with Orlando. Too cute...And faithful. Most guys would relish the fact that another female, aside from the one they were with, was paying them notice, but not Orlando. She cherished that about him.  
  
Laughing at his innocent inquiry, she shook her head with a mischevious glint in her eyes. "It's all about the technique. It can't be taught..." Taking a sip of her Rootbeer, she grinned, "It can be used though..."  
  
"What?" Laughing as she looked at him quizzicly, she shook her head. "No, I cannot make donkeys. Although, I make a pretty good Chicken Pot Pie."  
  
Some low, rumbling sound, between a moan and a sigh escaped Orlando's lips, although it was clear that the noise itself remained caught in the man's throat. As fun as flirtting with Faithe was, Orlando was finding himself dangerously close to that breaking point where teasing could only satisfy so much. Casting a helpless look at Faithe, he was clearly silently begging her to stop. He knew she knew what she was doing to him...  
  
"Technique, eh?" Orlando repeated with a quizzical glance as he plucked the stem from her fingers and held it between his forefinger and thumb, twirling it around absentmindedly. "Eh, I suppose if I can't learn it, I can at least benefit from your knowledge of such a skill..."  
  
Sadly, Orlando's little flirting was interrupted when he found the waitress's clearly silicon-based chest in front of him, prompting a slightly repulsed look to encloak Orlando's tanned face as his eyes grew wide with disgust.  
  
"Here you go, honey," she replied, leaning over the entire table to show Orlando what her tip money had purchased as she smiled broadly at him.  
  
"Thanks," Orlando replied, somewhat choking on his word as he exchanged a look with Faithe.  
  
The waitress promptly plopped Kaytlin's chicken in front of the little girl, then flung Faithe's salad, complete with extra onions at her, looking down her nose as though Faithe was the most vile creature she'd ever seen. Turning on her heel, she paraded back to the kitchen, walking as though she had a wedgie of sorts...  
  
Not even turning his head to watch the waitress walk off, Orlando sighed and pulled out his wand, then stuck it up his sleeve, hiding it as he removed the unpleasantries from Faithe's salad and then replacing it in his pocket.  
  
"Someone really ought to inform that woman that she's not as attractive as she thinks she is..." he said quietly, taking a bite of his hamburger.  
  
Rolling her lips inward, she couldn't help the mischevious look of flirtation that was taking over her innocent brown eyes. A small laugh escaped her mouth at his words, "Do you really think you deserve that technique used on you?" ((Five bucks says that you can guess what kind of tone that was said in.)) Grinning, she stuck her tongue in between her teeth, a taunting expression on her face. Mouthing the word 'later,' she looked down at Kaytlin.  
  
Faithe couldn't help the look indigestion that crossed her face as the woman practically laid on the table in front of Orlado. As her food was dropped in front of her, Faithe looked up at the woman with her sweet, innocent smile on her face. "Thank you very much." Her voice sounded genuine, as did the look on her face, but Faithe was desperately fighting the urge to stand up and smack the woman in her face.  
  
Kaytling squealed as she picked up a chicken tender and dipped it meticulously into the barbeque sauce. Biting it delicately, she chewed it exactly 25 times before swallowing. Faithe sat there staring at her for a moment, an incredulous look on her face. Shaking her head at the little girl, she grinned at Orlando.  
  
"Well, I just hope that she doesn't flaunt herself that much on a regular basis. Doing something like that in a city like this could get anybody hurt." Following the woman to the kitchen, there was, indeed, a worried expression on her face. Shaking her head again, she watched Orlando get rid of her onions for her.  
  
"Aw, thank you sweetie." Smiling at him, she winked with gratitude. Picking up her fork, she mixed her salad in with the ranch dressing before taking a bite of chicken. Chewing it and swallowing it, she grinned at Orlando, "What do you think?"  
  
"Hrm..." Orlando pretended to think for a moment, searching Faithe's face with a pensive look, before making his face fall dramatically and his bottom lip quiver.  
  
"Don't you?" he asked.  
  
Flashing that boyish grin of his at her "later", he nodded.  
  
Kayte's delighted squeal snapped Orlando back into reality, reminding him that she was there with him. It was odd how silent and self-entertaining Kayte whad been thusfar though, so much so that Orlando had almost believed himself to be sitting alone at a table with Faithe on a sort of date. That in itself, of course, was also a bit strange, seeing as the two hadn't ever really been on a traditional date... unless the broomstick-stargazing thing counted.  
  
Not that Orlando minded at all, because there had to be something to say for the two being able to get to close without going through any of the things that most couples would do and, in fact, having to hide whatever progress their relationship made from the world.  
  
Meeting Faithe's gaze, he rolled his eyes at Kayte's methodical-ness in eating her food.  
  
"You're welcome, mon amoure," he replied with a smile.  
  
"Mmm..." Orlando mused, shrugging nonchalantly.  
  
"I think," he began to reply, slowing down the words with a mischievous tone about them as his lower limbs continued to engage in the ludicrously cute game of footsie that had been momentarily put on hold, "that I most certainly do deserve to have such a t chnique exploited for my personal advantage.  
  
"And, I think that our waitress is completely vile, and, for her lack of customer service skills, I don't believe I'll be tipping her too well...  
  
"And," he added, still smiling, "as for the food, darling, I think it's quite good, even though it can't quite compare to French toast."  
  
Grinning, she fought back as best she could under the table without being obvious as to what they were doing. "Eh...maybe..." Sticking her tongue out, she winked at him mischeviously.  
  
After they had eated, paid, and left a not so nice tip, and Faithe had a quick coversation with the manager, they were once again out on the sidewalk. Kaytlin became overly ecstatic because they were now on their way to FAO Schwartz.  
  
"Oh oh! Just wait!" Squealing excitedly, she clapped her hands, "They have more stuffed aminals than any other store! And...and...and they have legos, and...and...and any other toy you can imagine!" Squealing again, she turned towards Faithe and raised her hands above her head, signaling she wanted to be held again.  
  
Grinning, Faithe took her by her wrists, and swung her around so she landed on her back. Once she felt safe that the girl's arms were around her neck, she let go her wrists and placed one hand under her knee, and took Orlando's hand with her other. Smiling, she shook her head as she rolled her eyes at Kaytlin, but there was sheer amusement and joy in her brown eyes.  
  
"Are you really gonna get a toy rocket?" Kaytlin's curiosity of Orlando was growing all the more, which made Faithe adore him all the more. Kayte didn't take to strangers that fast, especially as fast as she had come to trust Orlando. This simple fact spoke to Faithe on so many levels.  
  
Sauntering through the doors of Jekyll and Hyde, there was a smile stretched from ear to ear upon Orlando's gace. Not wasting any time, his hand was entangled with Faithe's before the pair had taken more than two steps past the doors; Kayte walked in front of them. At the girl's ecstatic squealing and clapping, Orlando couldn't help but chuckle with amusement.  
  
Reluctantly dropping Faithe's hand, he allowed her to lift the ting angel up and place her upon her own back. However, as she picked his hand up again, he cast a sideways glance at her, then shook his head. Taking her one hand in both of his own, he unwound her fingers one-by-one from before gently dropping it back to her side. Not walking for a few seconds, he allowed Faithe to get several paces in front of him.  
  
Walking up straight behind her, he place a hand on either side of Kaytlin's tiny frame, gently pulling her small body off od Faithe's back and lifting her up into the air and over his head, eventually setting her down upon his shoulder. One hand wrapped itself around his chest, holding her legs tightly against him; the other, after securing Kayte's arms around his forehead, reached down to the side and grasped Faithe's.  
  
Shooting the young woman a charmingly Orlando grin, he let a small laugh escape his lips before kissing her hand chivalrously and then letting their hands revert to swinging freely at their sides.  
  
"Of course I am, Kayte," Orlando reply, tapping her leg with his fingers as he leaned his head back as though he might be able to somehow meet her gaze. "I've already got a collection of 137 model rockets, but I'd really like to get a specific one of the B-engine models that I haven't been able to find anywhere else."  
  
Turning his attention back to Faithe, his voice became a little quieter and his eyes got a vaguely devious look in them.  
  
"And I will be getting you that teddy bear, under one condition though: you don't use it tonight..."  
  
Feeling Kayte's body being separated from her own, a surge of panic creased through Faithe's body. Gasping, she tightened her grasp on the girl before she realized that Orlando was pulling Kaytlin off her back. Letting go of her legs, Faithe watched him swing the girl onto his shoulders. Kayte squealed with delight as the feeling of weightlessness overcame her before she was settled on his shoulders.  
  
Laughing, Kaytlin's nose wrinkled slightly as she grinned, "You're silly, 'Lando!" Giggling as she rested one hand on top of his hand, Kayte's eyes began looking around curiously.  
  
Watching him lift her hand to his mouth, the left side of her mouth tilted up in a half smile. Devotion and adoration filled her eyes as she felt his lips brush the back of her hand ever so softly. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a split second before looking back at him, "You are too amazing." Speaking softly, she turned her gaze back to her path in front of her, not in the mood to get into a debate with a moody New Yorker because she ran into them.  
  
"137? Gracious sweetie," Raising her eyebrows in astonishment, Faithe shook her head smiling. "To think, people think I'm weird because I have a collection of star stuff at my house. I literally have hundreds of stars packed away in boxes." Wrinkling her nose, she grinned sheepishly.  
  
Feeling her cheeks turn red at his insinuation about the bear, she shot him a flirtatious grin. "As long as I have the real thing, I can live with that." A few blocks later, they stood outside the white brick building. Kaytlin started jumping up and down on Orlando's shoulders with excitement. Opening the door, she waved her hand to signal Orlando and Kaytlin through.  
  
A slight blush encompassed Orlando's cheeks at Faithe's repetition of the number of model rockets he had. Of course, most of them hadn't ever been purchased, so it wasn't that he spent all his meager earnings on them. Contrarily, he had made the majority of them by hollowing out tree branches, carving the fins, and then purchasing a few plastic tops. He then made the parachutes from old plastic bags, and stuck them to the body with chewing gum, which worked surprisingly well most of the time.  
  
"Actually, I used to have 143," he replied with a grin, "but over the course of launching them, I've lost six."  
  
Chuckling slightly at Faithe's comment about the materialized symbols of her own astronomical obsession, Orlando shook his head. His eyes radiated how endearing he found that fact.  
  
"So, you've got actual stars boxed up?" he teased, knowing what she had meant by saying she had "hundreds of stars in boxes". "Exactly how big is your house, then?  
  
"Ten by seventeen light years?" Grinning, he nudged her mischievously with his shoulder.  
  
Laughing as her cheeks ran red at his teddy bear comment, Orlando merely smirked in reply to her flirty grin, clearly amused by their continued joke.  
  
"The 'real thing' is yours forever," he replied, with his tone somewhere in- between the casual flirty nature of her demeanor and something more sincere and serious, "even if it can't always be there.  
  
"But, I can promise you that tonight, at least, you will most definitely be falling asleep in its arms, with its fingers laced into your hair, your head resting against its chest, its head gently resting upon your own, and a soft, content smile upon your delightful lips, lighting up your beautiful face."  
  
*************************  
  
Nodding at Faithe as she opened the door for him and Kaytlin, Orlando tightened the arm around Kaytlin's legs.  
  
"Duck, Kayte!" he said, bending his knees, and giving him a rather awkward look, as he walked through the door. Once he'd completely cleared the frame, he resumed his full height of 6' 1" and turned around and offered a hand to Faithe. Presuming she took it, he goofily spun her under his arm and into his side, holding her against him for a moment before dropping his arm and re-wrapping it lightly around her waist.  
  
Flitting his brilliant blue eyes around the mammoth store, Orlando's jaw dropped momentarily, having never seen such a phenomenal display of toys in his entire life. Eventually picking his jaw back up, he lifted his chin a bit, indicating he was speaking to Kaytlin.  
  
"Which way to the dolls, Kayte?"  
  
Grinning at her ability to make Orlando blush, Faithe winked adoringly at him. Laughing, she shook her head at the thought of a younger Orlando launching rockets, and it didn't make for her to visualize the expression on his face when those six hit the ground.  
  
"Aww, you poor baby. I can see where losing six whole rockets would be so detrimental to your collection of over a hundred rockets." Grinning, she stuck her tongue out at him. Gasping melodramatically, she poked her bottom lip out, a playfully disgruntled expression on her face.  
  
"What are you thinking?" With an incredulous air in her tone, she shook her head, "More like twenty by thirty light-years." Wrinkling her nose, she poked him gently in the side. Her playful grin melted, however, at the sound of his words into a pensive and endearing expression. There wasn't a smile on her lips, but her features were far from unhappy looking. Finally allowing the left side of her mouth to upturn in a bashful smile, her face reddened slightly.  
  
Squealing as she ducked, Kaytlin began wriggling on top of Orlando's shoulder, itching to get down and run around. Scared she was going to fall from her constant moving, Faithe held up her arms to the girl could get down. Kaytlin wrapped her arms around Faithe's and allowed herself to be pulled down. Once her feet hit the ground, she grabbed Orlando's hand and attempted to pull him towards a set of stairs.  
  
"Come on, this way!" Tugging, Kaytlin stopped suddenly and turned to look at Faithe. "Aunt Belle, will you go away?" Faithe's jaw dropped slightly as her lips curled up slightly. Grinning, Kayte shook her head, "It's nuttin' bad, I promise."  
  
Looking curiously from Orlando to Kayte, she shrugged. Before she could answer, Kayte was once again attempting to drag Orlando away. Laughing slightly, Faithe nodded, "You two be good." Turning around, she headed for a doorway that lead into a room filled with a jungle theme and wild animal stuffed toys.  
  
With a melodramatically incredulous expression overtaking his face, Orlando's jaw hung open for a second, allowing a gasp to pass through it.  
  
"It was [I]very[/I] detrimental!" he insisted with a small smile playing upon his lips. "I lost three As, an E, and another C-engine. I could have gotten over the As, and probably the C, but the E's barrel took me so long to carve out."  
  
Half-joking, he let out a sigh and shook his head.  
  
"[I]Very[/I] detrimental," he repeated, musing.  
  
Feeling her fingers jab lightly into his side, Orlando let out a mock groan and collapsed his spine, clutching that part of his body as if she'd just jabbed a knife into him, before resuming his normal stature and grinning at her. Letting go of her hand, he poked her shoulder with a knowing glance.  
  
"Ah, but not if they really were 'boxed up'," he replied with a smirk. "Packaging them in a few hollow cardboard cubes would [I]definitely[/I] compact their masses."  
  
As her facial expression softening into that not-smiling-but-definitely-not- unhappy look, Orlando felt a soft blush rouge his cheeks. Seeing the left side of her mouth twitch upwards into that coy beam, his hand reached up and stroked her cheek softly before- forgetting about Kayte, of course- he leaned over and gave her lips a short, soft and sweet kiss.  
  
As Kayte's hand leached itself onto Orlando's and she began pulling him, the man offered Faithe a slightly amused look. Then, as the pulling force ceased to be, his head reverted to Kayte's, alternating between hers and Faithe's for a moment of confusion.  
  
Chuckling at the crestfallen expression on Faithe's face, he grinned at her. Allowing himself to be pulled away from her, he let his hand slip out of her own and raised it as though he were waving good-bye to her.  
  
"We'll meet up with you later, I guess?" he called as he walked backwards wherever Kayte led him.  
  
Once Faithe had disappeared past the doorframe, he turned back to Kayte. Lifting her up, he carried her up the stairway.  
  
"Why'd your Aunt have to leave, Kayte?" he asked curiously, setting her down at the top, unsure of which way to go.  
  
((I do love how FAO Schwarts has rooms with different toy themes. They had one that was all Star Wars, and there this three feet tall lego model of R2D2.))  
  
Laughing, Faithe shook her head, "Yes, I'll keep an eye out for you guys."  
  
Grinning as Orlando picked her up, Kaytlin watched Faithe walk through the door. Looking around suspiciously, she finally became satisfied that nobody was listening to her 'important' conversation. Whispering when she spoke, there was an ecstatic air about her words.  
  
"I wanna show you somethin'. And I need your help with it." Once he had set her down, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. Of course, the hallway didn't resemble a hallway with the toys that were placed on shelves throughout it. Entering a side door, they walked into a room that was filled from floor to ceiling with dolls. Porclein, Barbie, plastic, every kind of doll imagineable.  
  
Walking over to the porcelein dolls, her small brown eyes scanned the shelves intently, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. Finally spotting the doll she had been looking for, her face lit up. Turning to Orlando, she motioned him over, waving her hands vigorously. Pointing to a doll about three shelves above her outstretched hand, she jumped up and down.  
  
The doll she was pointing to had brown, slightly curly hair, and brown eyes. She was wearing a deep blue dress that looked remarkably like robes, but there were small, silver stars sprinkled over the dress.  
  
"The doll's name is Isabelle. Daddy and I saw it when we were here last weekend, and I wanted to get it for Aunt Belle. She likes stars, and the doll looks like her. Daddy gave me extra moneys so I could buy it for her acause she was at school during her birfday. I didn't want her to see it until we get home though..." Looking around as if she halfway expected Faithe to come through the door, she leaned closer to him, whispering, "Plus, it has the same name as her!" Giggling,she wrinkled her nose slightly, another attribute she and Faithe shared.  
  
"Will you get it down for me so I can go get the doll I want?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and skipped over to the plastic dolls. Crouching down, she tilted her head slightly, looking at the little baby dolls.  
  
Noticing Kayte's suspicion as the girl's head looked around, Orlando raised an eyebrow curiously as he allowed her to take him by the hand and lead him down the hallway.  
  
"Uh, okay." he replied, thought still somewhat hesitant as to what exactly was going on.  
  
As she pulled him down the hallway, the man's eyes lit up at the sight of so many toys lining the walls. Never having been exactly well-liked by his parents, Orlando's toys had consisted of his shoes, and the occasional pebble that found its way into them, for the most part. However, there were times when he'd be blessed with finding one of Eric's abandoned army men, but, his only true toys were the rockets he had made once he had been able to, which wasn't until he was about nine.  
  
((I'm talking on the phone now, so if the post goes downhill, that's why.))  
  
Following Kayte's beckon, Orlando's eyes darted to the top shelf, where the little girl's hand pointed. Immediately his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped a bit. Had the doll looked a little more lifelike, he'd half have expected its mouth to open and Faithe's voice to start speaking through its mouth. It was gorgeous- just like her.  
  
Nodding slowly as Kayte spoke, Orlando's jaw picked itself up and his lips curled into a broad boyish grin as he imagined the look on Faithe's face when she saw it. Adorable. Eager to oblige the girl, he reached up and picked the doll up into his hands, not even having to stand on his toes.  
  
"Faithe's going to love it, Kayte," he said, turning towards the girl, only to find she had already left him for the plastic dolls.  
  
Moseying over towards her, doll under his arm, his eyes flitted over the assortment of dolls with a vaguely amused gaze in them.  
  
"See one you want?" he asked.  
  
With the other two mischevious heathens off picking out a doll for Kaitlyn, Faithe had left the Jungle room. Walking to the room dedicated to Astronomy, mainly glow in the dark plastic stars, she looked around. There was a specific item she was searching for that she had seen last time she was here, but that had been months before. She was holding her breath that it was still there.  
  
After a lot of tedious searching, she found the little star she had been looking for. It was a sterling silver star on a keychain. The design resembled that of Faithe and Kayte's necklaces down to the tiniest detail. Grabbing it, a smile on her face, she left the room and made way for the front register. Thinking better of it, she looked around for a random toy, and, seeing a stuffed cat, grabbed it for Kaytlin. Knowing she would be asked what she bought, she'd rather have something she could actually show him. If she had to brush the question off, Orlando might get suspicious she had gotten something for him.  
  
She had plans for this keychain, and she didn't want him finding out about it until it was the right time. After paying for the two items, she stood by the door, waiting. Turning her back on the store, she inspected a few hanging monkeys by the door.  
  
*****  
  
After staring intently, well, as intently as a five year old could, Kaytlin finally picked up a doll. The baby had a tuft of brown hair on top of her head, and had amazingly similiar features to a real newborn.  
  
"This one!" Grinning a toothy grin, Kaytlin showed him the box. "There's even a bottle and a passeephyre." Tucking it as best she could under her arm, she started pulling Orlando's arm. "Come on! We have to pay for it before Aunt Belle gets there!"  
  
Deciding pretty quickly that carrying the box with one hand wasn't going to work, Kayte let go of Orlando's hand and started walking fast towards the stairway. 


	6. The Storm

Idealism is the sanctuary of humankind. It saves us from the monstrosities of our world, allowing us to indulge ourselves in fantasies and make the world seem like a better place. We block out that which scares us, upsets us, and troubles us with thoughts of a pleasant alternative- a better tomorrow. Perhaps it is because of this that humankind chooses to focus upon the future, instead of the past. For, the past is a series of events whose outcomes are what they are, and there is no hope of any alternatives to them. The future, on the other hand, holds an infinite number of possibilities. Anything can happen, and, in an idealist's mind, everything good will come to pass. One may choose to swim in a sea of dreams for the future, but, no matter how calm the water appears, should a storm ever pass, unrepentant waves of fury- of the past- will be there to drown the swimmer in a thundering turmoil of memories. One must never disregard the ever-present danger; one must never ignore the past. For until one has accepted the fact that storms always threaten the calm sea, and submits themselves to wearing a lifejacket, they will be endangered. Like history, it is not to be ignored or forgotten, but rather to be learned from.  
  
The brilliant sun, whose golden beams had lit the world during the day, gradually slunk down beneath the horizon, taking its final bow before exiting the sky's stage and allowing the production known to the terrestrials as "Twilight" to ensue. A deep navy color soon coated the canvas of the sky, blending together with the final rays of yellow sunlight to create a magnificent swirl of colors- a sunset- before completely flooding the sky. Though the sunlight was gone, tiny gaseous masses, millions of years away, provided the world with an eerie twilight by which to see. Well, the part of the world that wasn't already enlightened artificially, at least.  
  
The city of Manhattan was a bustling center of life. Bright, colorful lights blinked, advertising the latest production of the Royal Broadway Theater (Les Misérables), throngs of lively New Yorkers flooded the streets, and an incessant stream of taxis and other automobiles filled the streets, providing that homey Manhattan traffic background. In one of the million cabs, there sat a dazzling woman, just slightly over twenty years of age.  
  
Strappy, black, heeled shoes clicked together as the cab inched sluggishly through the evening traffic. Her legs, covered by a knee-length denim skirt with a slit up the front, were crossed. A snug-fitting, black V-neck tank top covered her chest, or at least, a somewhat-modest part of it. Adorning her neck was a simple necklace, which consisted of a tiny wildflower petal inside a glass ball, strung upon a thin, silver chain. Her blonde locks were tossed up in a haphazard bun, allowing a few strands to fall on either side of her face as her head rested upon her hand and green ((Yes, J-Lo has brown eyes. Dommage)) eyes gazed out the window, surveying the world. They flitted over the familiar buildings and the crowds of people absentmindedly. Demeter Lawrance was somewhat of an impatient person, and, consistent with what one would believe, traffic jams irritated her. Sighing, and wondering how long it would take her to return to her apartment at last, she blinked her eyes and shook her head, only to find herself most surprised at what came into her view when her eyes reopened themselves.  
  
Surely she had to be seeing things, Demeter thought. Yet, after blinking her eyes again, the ghastly figure remained. With that messy brown hair and those unmistakable brilliant blue eyes, she was sure that it was him, but why had he returned to Manhattan? With eyes as intense as a falcon's, she watched as he flashed that characteristic charming grin at the doorman and passed through the double doors of the Plaza.  
  
"I'll get out here," she said abruptly, opening the door to the taxi and casually throwing a fifty-dollar bill at the cabbie. Hastily grabbing her trendy purse in her hand, she wound her way through the maze of cars and made her way inside the hotel.  
  
Glancing about frantically, thinking she had lost him, a familiar deep brown duster caught her eye and she followed it down the hall, past the mob of people awaiting the elevator, up the corner and around to the stairs, careful to stay far enough behind the figure so that he could not see her, but she could see him.  
  
The last time she had seen Orlando Corvello Lorenz had been almost two years ago. The last memory of him she had was the vision of those captivating cerulean eyes staring at her, telling her that he still loved her, while his lips told her that he just couldn't forgive himself for what he had done. At the time, she, too, was young and foolish, too stupid to realize what he was trying to tell her- what he was trying to teach her- she had just walked away, too blinded by hurt and pride to understand.  
  
"Alright," she had said, and that had been the end of it. The phone calls ceased, and neither stopped by the other's residence ever again. A week or so after that event, she had found a hastily scrawled note attached to her door telling her that he was taking some teaching job at a magic school and that he bid her good luck in life.  
  
Now, two year later, she understood why he had done what he had done. It had been the right thing to do, after all. But, now, it was too late. Since Orlando, Demeter had gotten herself a job in advertising, and gone through her share of men, trying desperately to find that feeling being with Orlando had always given her, but never finding anything close. No one had ever held the same passion about something that he had, no one had ever understood her like he had, and no one had ever come close to making her feel safe like he had.  
  
The man carried within his left hand a leather official-looking folder of sorts, which he switched to his right hand to open the door when, at long last, he had reached the top floor. Passing through the door, he turned to the left, and entered the room at the far end of the hallway. Demeter followed quickly, catching the door with her foot as it closed.  
  
Hesitantly, she pushed the door open with her hand, and took a few steps inside the room. The fact that she was entering someone's hotel room didn't really strike her at the moment; she was entranced by optimism, by a vision of the future, an alternative ending to the Orlando saga, perhaps. Silently, stuck in a daze, she watched as he set the folder, whose golden engraving read "Southbend Observatory", on the end table and turned around to meet her gaze.  
  
As he turned around, Orlando was struck silent by what his eyes saw. Never had he thought he would lay eyes upon this woman again. She had left him, and not on good terms, either. Now, in the middle of a crowded city, there she was standing three feet from him in his hotel room. His breath caught in his throat, and his face resumed that vacant look.  
  
Barely breathing, Demeter took a tentative step towards him, then another, until she had covered the distance between the two. Looking straight across, at his chest, her hands found their way to his jacket, smoothing out the collar on it. She glanced up, towards his eyes and, when their eyes met, she was overcome by past memories. Orlando was, more than anything, confused. Why was she here? How had she found him after two years? What did she want? Forgetting everything of the present, Demeter leaned in to kiss him with somewhat of a sense of urgency.  
  
Preoccupied with thought, he didn't move to meet her lips. Instead, he pulled his head back slightly, and regarded her with a look of almost fear, but more than that, confusion. Why was she doing this?  
  
Confused, when she didn't feel his lips upon hers, Demeter slowly pulled back for a moment, searching his face for something- anything- and was greeted only with a vacant look in his eyes, followed by them melting into an intense gaze. All thoughts of Faithe completely vanished from his mind as he placed his hands behind her neck and leaned in, closing his eyes to kiss her.  
  
Caught off guard, it took Demeter a moment to realize what was going on. Yet, when she did, her eyes, too, closed and her arms eagerly wrapped themselves around his back, kissing him passionately. 'God, does this feel right.' she thought, unwrapping her arms from Catch's back and letting them creep up his chest, winding their way around his head as one of Orlando's hands took its familiar position upon her lower back.  
  
Feeling Demeter's lips press upon his own and her hands wrap themselves around his neck the way that only hers did, Orlando's stomach dropped out from beneath him. Kissing Demeter was like visiting a place he hadn't been in forever and doing all the things he used to do. Slowly regaining his breath, he pulled out of the kiss, resting his head upon her forehead like he had always used to, and shaking his head. It was still there- that burning passion for each other.  
  
Closing his lips in a sorrowful sort of smile, an image of Faithe popped into his mind. No, he couldn't do this to her.  
  
"You gotta go, Dem," he said quietly, lifting his forehead off hers and returning to his full height. His hands lifted themselves from around her and he turned towards the door to walk away.  
  
Demeter's hand remained where they had been, though there was no longer a body within them. Her eyebrows rose and a quiet gasp escaped her lips as she blinked a few times in succession, and then cast a confused glance his way. Dropping her arms abruptly to her sides, he lips parted and the confused glance turned into an incredulous one. Slinking her shoulders, her head turned away and her fingers reached up to touch her lips before her gaze returned to the open doorway.  
  
"Oh, God."  
  
((**grin** You wrote the name Catch.))  
  
Poor Kaytlin. She had been looking forward to the opening show that night, excited to see her daddy on stage, excited about her solo debut. As fate would have it, the little five year old had waken up with a stomach virus. Arrangements had been made for the girl who normally watched her to have the day off, it being the opening night of Les Miserables, there was no need for her to be there.  
  
Faithe had gotten the phone call from Jake as she and Orlando had been preparing to leave for the observatory. Unable to say no to her brother's pleadings, Faithe had reluctantly explained the situation to Orlando. So disappointed about not being able to be by him during probably the most important time of his life, the eighteen year old had almost started crying.  
  
Here she was though, standing in the apartment above the Royal Broadway Theatre. Eddie had been waiting for her when she had arrived. After a long, two hour conversation, the two had reconciled, although he knew that there was a lack of trust. As she had told him, she didn't know if he would ever be able to earn his trust back, but she forgave him.  
  
The evening was a quiet one, Kaytlin too sick to be energetic. Around 8:30, Kaytlin had laid down, falling asleep easily. The rest of Faithe's evening had been spent reading in silence, her eyes occasionally casting up towards the comet. It was harder to see tonight, but she assumed that was due to the excess lights surrounding the theatre. Sighing, and wishing desperately she was with Orlando, Faithe rolled her eyes at how slowly the evening had been dragging on.  
  
It seemed like forever before she heard the door open and Jake and Eddie came bounding in. Seeing the elation on their faces, a large grin spread over her face. The show had gone wonderfully, save the little Cosette stand in that had almost had a nervous breakdown backstage. The little girl had recovered by the time she was on stage to sing her solo.  
  
After hugging Jake good night, Faithe finally left the apartment, her pace much quicker on her way back to the hotel than it had been on the way to Jake's. She was excited to know what happened, ready to celebrate with him.Not to mention, a solution to the biggest problem she had been facing had crept into her mind that evening, and she was ecstatic to share it with him.The subway had taken forever, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that was mainly because her patience level had run out long ago. Reaching the hotel, she had to fight herself to keep from breaking out into a run to get to the penthouse.  
  
Tapping her foot impatiently as the elevator crawled along, Faithe felt like a little child in a candy store, waiting to be let loose to choose anything she wanted. As soon as the door began to open, she hustled through it, hitting her shoulder on the metal door. Mouthing the word 'ow' as she walked, she rubbed her shoulder gently. Stopping in her tracks, Faithe's brown eyes narrowed slightly. Why is the door open? Stepping forward quietly, she stepped through the door, her hand gently pushing it silently the rest of the way open.  
  
A look of shock crossed her face as she watched the man who had expressed his love for her kiss another woman. This isn't happening. Not him... But it was happening, there was no doubt about that. Pain coursed through her body as she stared at the two in front of her. She didn't need to ask who the woman was...she knew instinctively the woman was Demeter. Taking a step back, the hand that had been on the door fell to her side, causing a small creak to escape the door.  
  
As her presence became known, Faithe's eyes moved from Demeter to Orlando. Biting her bottom lip, she turned around and walked back out of the doorway. Closing the door quietly behind her, she stood there for a moment, her hand running through her hair. Feeling the familiar stinging in her eyes, Faithe's eyebrows crumpled together. Walking back towards the elevator, she hit the button. Of course, the elevator had found its way back to the bottom floor, which was over twenty floor below Faithe.  
  
A small tear found its way down her cheek, but she wiped it away immediately. Her impatience crept in one again, and she hit the button three more times. Of all the people in the world she trusted, Orlando was the only person who had ever loved her for who she was, and not because of the events that had played in her life. Well, at least she thought he had loved her. Sure, she and Jake had a great relationship, but they couldn't be left in the same room for fear of what may happen to one of them. The only reason they had started getting along was because he had almost killed her by pushing her into the orchestra pit.  
  
Her emotions were becoming harder and harder to control as she waited anxiously for the elevator. The longer she stood there, the more tears that welled up in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her eyes, cursing the few tears that managed to slip by. Wiping her cheeks quickly, she hit the button for the fifth time.  
  
Running a hand over his face ((a la Catch)), Orlando sighed as he stepped towards the door. What had just happened? Demeter was supposed to be gone. That feeling was supposed to have vanished. He was with Faithe- he had gotten over Demeter Lawrance. It had taken him nearly a year, but he had done it, and, now that his world was finally turning to right way again, she had come back to him, when he had least expected it.  
  
The ocean in his head thundered as waves of thoughts crashed against the walls. Endless memories of love, splendor and pain involving Demeter echoed through his mind, combined with flashes of Faithe's half-smiles and big brown eyes.  
  
"Do you miss her?" Faithe had once asked him.  
  
"Yes, Faithe," he had replied solemnly, "but the part of her that I miss is too far gone to dwell on"  
  
Demeter had left him in shambles, and then, as though she was playing some sick joke, came back and left him in emotional shambles once more just as he had rebuilt himself. 'hankfully, Faithe was still at Jake's,' he thought, letting his hand slide down his face. It bought him some time to figure this out.  
  
Blinking his eyes, his breath caught in his chest again at the sight before him: Faithe. This wasn't happening. Surely she had seen it, the look on her face was pure heartbreak. After glancing back at Demeter for a moment, and hearing the door shut, he shook his head and sighed, heading off after Faithe. Maybe, just maybe, there was someway he could make her understand. It didn't look too promising, though... he didn't even understand it.  
  
Pushing the door open, he left Demeter alone in the room and hurried out. Snapping his head around both ways, his blue eyes, whose vibrant color had changed into a gray hue, darted about, desperately searching for Faithe. Seeing her by the elevator, he hurried over towards her.  
  
Having enough sense not to wrap his arms around her and try to physically comfort her, but not quite being intelligent enough to come up with any clever verbal excuse, he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him, then relinquished her, using the classic line:  
  
"Faithe, it's not what it looks like."  
  
His voice was breathy, partially because his rendez-vous with Demeter had left him breathless and partially due to the stress of the situation. His face held a sincere look to it, though its genuineness was contorted by remorse, confusion and vacancy. He didn't know what to say, or how to make it right.  
  
She pulled out of his grasp at the same time he was moving his hand. Turning her dark eyes on the figure in front of her, a tear betrayed her and slipped down her cheek, leaving a stream behind it. It never is... Raising a hand, she placed it on his lips softly, signaling him to remain silent.  
  
"I think it was exactly what it looked like, Orlando." Her voice was shaky, but despite the circumstance, the emotion in her voice was relatively controlled. There was no anger, not in her voice or the expression on her face; anger wasn't even included in her list of emotions dwelling inside of her. The hurt, the pain, the disappointment, the shock, all of it was evident in the lost expression in her eyes. Betrayal. That was there too, but she refused to show it. Taking a deep breath, she averted her gaze to the floor.  
  
"I understand though. I really do." Looking up at him, there was genuine compassion in her eyes for the words that she was speaking. "I was her...understudy. Her stand in, and I can live with that. You gave your heart away Orlando, and I shouldn't have expected for the feelings you had for her to just disappear because I came along." I'm nothing special. Not to anybody... Swallowing with some difficult, her attention was drawn to the familiar bell tone of the arriving elevator. Forcing herself to look back up at Orlando, she bit her bottom lip, almost breaking the skin her teeth bore down so hard.  
  
"I'm not going to try to compete with her. You love her, and the only thing important in this situation is your happiness. I'm not going to hold you back out of selfishness." Placing her hand on the door to keep it from closing, she turned her head to hide another tear that had escaped her. The more she spoke, the softer and more meaningful her voice came, and the more difficult it came for her to speak.  
  
Stepping inside the elevator, she pressed the button for the first floor, her gaze flickering back up at him. "I don't want you to feel obligated to me. I love you too much to be responsible for you to live your life wondering if you could have been happy with her." Watching his face disappear behind the closed doors, Faithe melted against the wall. Burying her face in her hands, she allowed a few tears escape as she tried her hardest to control the emotions that were really burning to get out. Wiping her cheeks before the doors opened, Faithe stepped out, heading back towards Jake's apartment.  
  
*****  
  
Several times on the subway Faithe had had to check her feelings, more or less, the tears that wouldn't go away. Finally arriving at Jake's she climbed the staircase, knocking on the door lightly. When he opened the door, Jake immediately knew something was wrong. Pulling her into the room, he guided her towards the couch.  
  
By the time Faithe got done telling Jake, and consequentially Eddie, what had happened, Faithe had finally broken down. As she began sobbing uncontrollably, Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her protectively. "Aw, Izzy," sighing, he gently stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry this happened." Talking softly, he allowed her to sit up when she did so. Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes.  
  
"No. I should have expected it." Sighing, her eyes fell on the floor, unblinking. Reaching over, Jake wrapped his arm around her back, rubbing her side.  
  
"Do you love him?" The question came from Eddie, not Jake. Looking up at his face, Faithe saw a sincerity in him that she hadn't ever seen before. Nodding, she bit her lip as her eyes flitted towards the ground once more.  
  
"Yes. I think the best way for me to show that to him is by letting him go, if that's what he wants." Eddie nodded, a pensive stare on his face. He nodded, looking back up at her, "And I think the best way for me to show that to you, is by doing the same."  
  
The words came out unexpectedly, causing her thoughts to flow off balance. Standing up, he walked over to her, crouching down in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he squeezed them affectionately, "I've ruined one of the best friendships I could have had by trying too hard. I can't fix what I've done in the past, but I can be a better friend to you in the future. Just know that I'm here for you." For once, any talk about friendship that came from Eddie's mouth was genuine. In the past, he would talk about becoming better friends simply to score points with her, but not now. She was hurting, and for the first time in his life, he was seeing her through he eyes of a friend who was watching another friend suffer.  
  
Nodding, she tried to offer a smile, but couldn't manage to muster one up. Standing up, she looked down at Jake. "I'm going to lay down." Walking into the guest bedroom, Faithe opened the dresser which contained extra clothes that she left there. Changing into pajamas, she laid down on top of the covers and flipping the light out. She wasn't tired, and even if she was, there was no way that she would have been able to fall asleep. She just simply needed to be alone. Once in the safe haven, Faithe finally allowed the tears to fall freely once again, clutching the extra pillow in her arms.  
  
Feeling her turn away from him, Orlando began to comprehend the extent to which he had hurt her, and, in turn, bit his lip as she spoke. There was nothing he could say, at least not until she had said what she wanted to. Still, he couldn't fight the urge to defend himself, at least a little bit.  
  
"And what exactly did it look like Faithe?" he retorted, throwing his hands up in desperation. The frustration in his mien died down quickly though as his eyes fell upon her face, which was, eerily controlled. Then, as her eyes rolled the floor, Orlando brought his hands down to his sides and shook his head with despair.  
  
Quietly, Demeter found her way to the doorway and peeked her head out, listening to the exchange of words intently. She hadn't come here to destroy a relationship if that was what Orlando had had; she had figured that he had been living in the same void she had since last they saw each other, but, evidently, she was wrong. While she had flitted from man to man, futilely seeking what she had lost, he had found it.  
  
Faithe's words were soft, sweet and undeniably selfless. There wasn't a better way that this dilemma could have played itself in Demeter's mind, as long as Orlando still wanted her as she wanted him. Considering only the kiss, or rather kisses, the two had shared only moments earlier, her mind told her he did. But, she questioned herself, if it was she whom he desired, why had he run off after the other girl?  
  
Though Demeter was pleased with Faithe's words, Orlando wasn't. He was at a complete loss. Faithe wasn't mad, and she wasn't crying. She was collected, calm and concerned only for his well-being, just as he should have known she would be. Yet, though she was fine on the outside, Orlando knew her well enough to realize how torn he had made her inwardly.  
  
If only he could have denied it all right then. Maybe, if he had just told Faithe straight-up that he didn't love Demeter, and had looked into her brown eyes and told her that it was only she whom he loved, the situation would have rectified itself. But, the fact of the matter was, he couldn't lie to the girl. He did love Demeter, but, on the other hand, he loved Faithe. How exactly that was, he couldn't explain, but he did know that he didn't want to hurt either of them.  
  
Watching in silence as she stepped inside the elevator, Orlando moved to enter, only finding himself stopped by Faithe's hand. Having too much regard for her feelings, he stopped and nodded in silent acceptance that she needed to be alone at the moment. Once the doors had closed, the man's forehead leaned forward onto the cold, steel, and his hands crumpled themselves into fists and laid themselves upon the door, not pounding on it, though.  
  
Sighing, he gradually slunk off the doors after a moment, turning back to the room. He didn't know what to do or where to go. His mind was a churning mass of thoughts and emotions; his face was a blank canvas of desolation.  
  
Letting a single tear escape his eyes, he paused in his tracks, trying to think of something he could do. Out of the stillness, Demeter hesitantly approached him, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her body and laying her head upon his chest.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.  
  
For a moment, Orlando's arms encircled the woman and his head lay upon her shoulder, the silent embrace spoke for itself.  
  
"Me too," he said quietly, untangling himself from her and taking a step away. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, and, in a moment, was gone.  
  
A moment later, he arrived at his destination- outside Jake's apartment. Climbing up the stairs, he sighed, wondering why exactly his mind had brought him here. Maybe it was because it was the only place, he'd ever felt welcomed, or as though he had friends there. Or maybe it was because he longed to explain to someone what had happened. He didn't know. It just felt like the right place to be. Far from Faithe, and far from Demeter, he could think.  
  
Slowly climbing up the steps, he reached the top in the span of a few minutes. Raising his hand, he hesitantly knocked on the door, hoping and praying for some sort of absolution to come out of this.  
  
"Jake?" he called hesistantly, "It's Orlando..."  
  
After Faithe had gone into the guest bedroom, Jake took a deep breath and released it. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, his green eyes looked at Eddie. Eddie was now sitting on the arm of the couch, doing the same. Looking down at Jake, he raised his eyebrows slightly, "You haven't told her about Bridget yet, have you?"  
  
Without looking up, Jake shook his head, exhaling another deep breath. "No. I couldn't. She has enough on her mind without me adding anything to it. When things settle down a bit, I will." Standing up, he walked to the window with a pensive gaze as he looked up at the comet in the sky. An eery silence settled over the apartment, but was soon broken by the shrill scream of a five year old.  
  
Faithe was out of bed in a heartbeat, and all three of the adults rushed into the little girl's room. Faithe reached Kayte's room first and quickly sat down next to her. Gathering the girl in her arms, she looked up at Jake and Eddie as they scrambled through the door. Looking down at the crying, feverish girl, Faithe lifted her chin gently. "What is it sweetie?" Talking softly, Faithe smoothed Kaytlin's hair out of her face gingerly.  
  
"There was a lady," talking through her tears, Kayte relayed the nightmare that had awoken her. "She was hurting me. She took me away from Daddy." Holding the girl in a firm embrace, Faithe's eyes looked up at Jake questioningly. Jake's eyes had grown wide as he took a step backwards, his head shaking back and forth. Furrowing her eyebrows, Faithe stood up.  
  
"Nobody is going to hurt you sweetheart. I promise." Stepping towards the door, she looked at Jake, "I'm going to take her into bed with me." As he nodded, Jake watched as Faithe went back to the guestroom. Laying down in the bed, she wrapped her arms around the shaking girl, talking softly to her. "I saw her four times tonight." The voice came out tiny and scared, but Faithe just held her closer.  
  
Jake and Eddie walked back to the living room, Jake's face slightly pale. Before he could say anything, he heard the knock on the door as Orlando called out. Sighing, he looked at Eddie, "Will you go check her temperature while she's awake?" Watching him walk out of the room, Jake went over and opened the door.  
  
"I had a feeling I would be seeing you tonight." There was no anger behind his voice, nor bitterness. Motioning for him to come inside, Jake closed the door quietly behind him. Sitting down on the couch, he leaned forward, his hands clasped together in front of his knees. "I want to hear your side of the story." Walking back out, Eddie held the thermometer in his hand, heading towards the kitchen.  
  
"Her temperature is down to 100, which is good because it was at 103 less than an hour ago." Stopping in his tracks, Eddie cast a wary expression towards Orlando. Walking over to Orlando, he extended his hand, "I wanted to thank you for last night. I don't know what would have happened had you not been there." Walking back in the kitchen, Eddie began washing off the thermometer, leaving the other two to talk.  
  
Jake's eyes never left Orlando, "Tell me what happened from your point of view." There was a look of compassion in his eyes as he searched the other man's face.  
  
A sense of fear enveloped Orlando as he stood there, eyes upon the ground, waiting for the door to open. It was a peculiar sense of fear, though: somewhere in between that which a child feels when they've done something wrong, waiting in the principal's office and waiting to be reprimanded and the utter terror he had felt as a child. Swallowing, he heard the door open, and his eyes flitted up, though his head remained low.  
  
Placing his hands in his pockets, he hesitantly entered the room, thoughts plaguing his mind. Faithe had obviously been there already, if she wasn't still there. That alone beleaguered Orlando enough to drive him to gnaw upon his tongue; combined with the uncertainly Jake's calm, almost kind, words had brought him, there was shortly a small gash cut into the muscle, and Orlando's mouth filled with blood as he sat next to Jake upon the couch.  
  
Hearing Eddie's voice, Orlando's head snapped up to look upon him, glaring as if he had the right to glare. Yet his look soon melted as Eddie spoke, eerily enough, kindly to him. Reluctantly, Orlando took Eddie's hand in his own and shook it, nodding confusedly. What was this? Though he was knowledgeable about facts, sociology and human behavior in general was absolutely perplexing to Orlando. He didn't understand why Jake was being so kind to him. If the roles had been reversed, Orlando would have slammed the door on his face and cast some sort of heinous spell upon him. And then there was Eddie, whose personality split baffled him even more.  
  
Jake's voice broke his pensive reverie and the man's eyes reverted to him for a moment, then he blinked, not knowing really what to say. He was sure Faithe had told him already, and there wasn't much else to be said. He had wronged his 'Foi', and there was nothing that could change that. He could always apologize, but what good was an apology if it wasn't genuine. In truth, he wasn't sorry he had kissed Demeter. He was regretful of the pain it had caused Faithe, but remorse for the actual act itself wasn't something he felt.  
  
"I had just gotten back from the observatory, and I was just setting the patent down on the table when I heard someone come through the door," he began, speaking as calmly as though he were reading from a storybook, "I though it was Faithe, but it wasn't. It was someone I hadn't seen in nearly two years: Demeter Lawrance." His voice grew quite as he spoke her name, and his hand reached up to his forehead, holding his head as though he had a headache.  
  
"I had been with her since the beginning of my seventh year at Rosencrantz until about a year and a half ago. We had had the type of relationship where we were so close that words weren't even necessary."  
  
Sighing, he wiped his hand down his face and, resting his elbow on his knees, held his head up on his fist.  
  
"I thought I was going to marry her someday."  
  
His voice radiated a feeling of unmistakable sorrow as he shook his head.  
  
"But it all fell apart.  
  
"We were young, and, as young people are, we were stupid. One night, out beneath the stars, things got out of hand, and I let myself go to far."  
  
He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as flashes of the night filled his head. Biting his lip, he re-opened his eyes, looking at Jake.  
  
"It shouldn't have happened," he declared, "and I knew that. I tried to explain how sorry I was to Dem, but she didn't understand me, and I didn't understand her. anymore, at least.  
  
"'I still love you' I told her, 'I just can't forgive myself for what I've done to you'," he recalled, "'Alright' she said to me. And that was the last I saw of her. Our storybook was left open, and unfinished, without tying up any loose ends, and without any resemblance of a final conclusion.  
  
"Maybe that's why I did it," he said randomly, thinking aloud, with a vacant, detached feeling radiated by the leisurely pace of his words.  
  
"I turned towards her, and she walked towards me, leaving the hotel door open behind her. Her hands were on my jacket, playing with the collar of it, like she used to do, and then she leaned in to kiss me. I thought I had been dreaming, and moved my head back, away from her. Then she looked at me with those verdant, emerald eyes, and that look on her face- confused, forlorn.  
  
"I don't know why I did, but I kissed her then," he said quietly, averting his gaze towards the wall. "And it wasn't just a quick peck," he added shamefully, "it wasn't even just one kiss, either... After a moment, I pulled back and told her she had to go, then turned towards the door, and, then, I saw Faithe.  
  
"God, Jake," he said quietly, turning his head back towards him upon his hand, "her face- her eyes. There isn't a thing in this world that could make me feel worse about myself than the look those eyes held. She wasn't mad, and she wasn't crying; all she said was 'I don't want you to feel obligated to me. I love you too much to be responsible for you to live your life wondering if you could have been happy with her'."  
  
Repeating those haunting words, whatever strength Orlando had left vanished and he felt an unswallowable lump appear in his throat.  
  
"If Demeter had come back to me any day in the year after she had left me, I would have taken her back without a second thought; but she didn't. And it took me nearly two years to get over her. Once I had finally done it, though, she came back. I had a life, I had a job, and, more than that, I had Faithe. She was supposed to be gone, and never coming back. Why did she have to come back tonight?"  
  
((Sorry about the excessive dialogue... this sucks))  
  
After Kaytlin had drifted back off to sleep, Faithe got out of bed. Walking over to the window, she lifted it as quietly as she could and sat in the window sill Her back against the frame, she lifted her legs, setting them in front of her, balancing as she gazed at the sky. The sight of the comet only caused more tears as she sat there, her heart in shambles. Hugging her knees, she rested her head on top of them, keeping her eyes glued on the night sky. Looking to the north, she spotted clouds rolling in with the promise of a storm. Sitting there alone, Faithe's own emotional storm passed through her once more. Burying her face in her hands, she erupted into tears, trying to keep as quiet as possible.  
  
*****  
  
Listening to Orlando intently, Jake nodded knowingly at the history between Orlando and Demeter. Once he was done speaking, Jake stared at the floor, a pensive stare in his green eyes as he nodded slowly. Sitting up, he rubbed his hands together, turning his stare back to Orlando.  
  
"That sounds like something Isabelle would say." Sighing, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I think her reasoning for waiting until she was over here to let her emotions run free are very simple in her mind. From what I gathered from talking to her, she wants you to base a decision about who you want to be with solely on who you truly love, and who you truly want to be with. I think she feels that if she broke down in front of you that her pain would play an influential role on the outcome of this situation. She doesn't want you to feel guilty if you would rather be with Demeter than her." Speaking softly, the thoughtful look on his face remained as he spoke, each word coming out with that same thoughtfulness. Looking into the other man's face, Jake's expression didn't hold any look of blame towards Orlando, despite the situation.  
  
"I think you need to look inside you and figure out what you want. Not who you want, mind you. What kind of family do you want to have in the future? Who could you honestly see yourself being with ten years from now? Let's face it, we're all at a stage in our life where everything we commit ourselves to has some sort of long term goal." Looking up as Eddie entered the room, Jake nodded a thanks as the man set down two cups of coffee on the table for Orlando and Jake. Sitting down on the couch, Eddie looked at Orlando, the same pensive expression on his face as Jake. After taking a quick sip from the brown liquid, Jake returned his cup and continued speaking.  
  
"The first time I saw Bridget after she took off was when Kaytlin was three. I hadn't seen her in three years. Man," Shaking his head, he rubbed his chin at the memory, "I would have sworn up and down that I wanted to be with her...that I'd give anything to be back in her arms. However, after time had passed, I realized that I didn't still love her. What I loved was the memory of what the two of us had shared, both emotionally and physically. I loved the girl she used to be, not the person she had come to be. Yes, she had changed and grown up, but so had I. She took off once, and I couldn't trust her enough to bring into Kaytlin's life as her mother figure because I didn't know for sure if she was truly going to stick around."  
  
Leaning forward, Eddie took a deep breath, gnawing on the inside of his lip. Looking up at Orlando, there was an almost empty, sad expression on his face. "Orlando, she loves you man. I have screwed up so many times where Isabelle was involved. I'm telling you from experience, she will always be there, ready to forgive anybody who is willing to ask for it. More importantly, whether I had asked forgiveness or not, when I needed somebody, she was always there. You need to talk to her about this, but you need to decide what you want first. Izzy won't be happy until she's positive you are. That's just how she is." Sitting back, he bit his bottom lip. Eddie knew he had screwed things up majorly, but he hoped that what little contact the two men had had wouldn't automatically cause Orlando to ignore anything he said. Then again, he wouldn't blame him.  
  
"Do you love Demeter? I mean really love her, not just the memory of you two." The question Jake posed was said with meaning as he took up where Eddie left off. "Just the same, do you love Isabelle? Truly? Nobody can tell you what you need to do, except you."  
  
"As for why did Demeter show up now?" Shrugging, Jake shook his head slowly. "Maybe it's a test for how you truly care about Izzy. Maybe you're getting a new start with Demeter. Who knows? Eddie's right, if Isabelle thinks you stayed with her because of how much she got hurt by this, she will never be happy. If you want to be with her for who she is, and not how guilty you feel, then I know that she will be there for you."  
  
*****  
  
Getting up from the window sill, Faithe grabbed a sweater and her flip flops. Tired of sitting in the apartment, she quietly slipped out the window. Turning, she closed it from the outside, leaving less than an inch of it open so that she could get back in when she returned. Climbing down the emergency stairs, she crossed her arms, shivering slightly as the melancholy wind from the coming storm chilled her. Walking the streets, she reached up occasionally to brush away a tear.  
  
After walking for sometime, she came to a park with a lake in the middle. Sitting on a bench, she hugged her knees, ignoring the passersby. After two months in New York, Faithe had learned to ignore the snide remarks from the scum bags whose morals were less than obsolete.  
  
Amazed and astounded at how calmly Jake responded, Orlando hesitantly looked up at him. There had been no yelling, no telling him that what he had done was wrong (even though Orlando himself knew it had been), no snide remarks, and no threats for hurting his sister. Not that he would have ever thought Jake would do anything like that, but the eerie calmness he held was. eerie.  
  
Silently, he sat, taking in everything Jake had said, and then, what Eddie had said. Though he didn't enjoy Eddie at all, the man had made some good points and, it was as though he was a different person that night, not the drunken scumbag he had been, but more of a kind, gentle, and compassionate person. No blame was cast from either of their faces, another surprise to Orlando. He couldn't believe the gentle serenity of the two.  
  
Mentally going through Jake's questions, his mind formed answers. Closing his eyes, a hazy vision formed in his mind of himself sitting out underneath the stars with a small boy upon his lap, pointing up to a constellation: Orion the Hunter. Behind him sat a woman, though he couldn't see her face. He could only feel her soft, gentle breath upon the back of his neck and her fingers tenderly toying with his hair.  
  
Opening his eyes, he sighed, turning his head away from the two other men and casting his glance upwards. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Jake's situation was hauntingly similar to his own with Demeter. But whether or not he was in love with Demeter or the memory of who she had been to him. he didn't know. From what he had seen, she hadn't changed a bit. Still the same eyes, the same mannerisms, the same voice, and the same passion. That was impossible, though; she couldn't be the exact same person he had loved.  
  
Change, except from a vending machine, was inevitable. He had changed over the past two years, and she most certainly had to have done the same. Spending those two years apart must have hindered their relationship; after all, the only reason people can stay together so long is by changing with each other, and complementing one another. But how could he know for certain? He had to see her again, had to talk to her, had to figure out this mess. preferably before he broke Faithe's heart beyond the point of repair.  
  
At Jake's question of whether or not he loved Demeter or not, Orlando remained silent, not knowing the answer. He had loved her, that was certain. Then, as Jake asked if he loved Faithe, his head made an almost unnoticeable nod. Of that he was also certain.  
  
Face vacant for a moment, he gradually turned back to the two men and offered them each a pensive look.  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly, voice completely sincere. "I have to go, now."  
  
Quietly standing up, he walked out the door, not completely shutting it on his way out, and apparated back to the hotel room, praying that Demeter would still be there.  
  
((Kaycee-don't reply yet, Rachel's going to post a Dem reply))  
  
((Way to God-mode, Li. *flicks her off, then grins*))  
  
There are some things that can never truly be erased. These memories. these insurmountable parts of our lives keep us tied down to a spot, one that we fear we may never overcome. So we stay where we are, and we tell ourselves that things will get better in a matter of time, that hope will win out after all. And these gentle lies lull us to sleep in the night, and they keep us warm when our breath runs short and we feel the fear slipping coolly into our bones. And then we feel that terror once again for that single moment, and see that all we've done has been for naught, that it's all been a sham. Then the warmth of the lies seep back into our skin and keep us from staying tied down.  
  
After Orlando had left, Demeter Lawrance remained in the room. She found that, somehow, she couldn't have possibly left the room if she had tried. There was something that held her to that spot- a silent hope that Orlando would return to her. Casually, she closed the door, and turned around.  
  
The woman wandered aimlessly about the room for a moment, until her eyes inadvertently cast their gaze upon the black leather folder that he had laid upon the table. Slowly taking it in her hands, she opened it gently. From the file, a small, off-white paper fluttered down to the ground, eventually landing upon her feet. Curiously, Demeter bent her knees and picked it up, emerald eyes gazing intently at it.  
  
As its identity became apparent, a small, proud beam appeared upon her face. Orlando had finally discovered that comet he had always told her about. Reading on, her smile turned to a small, bewildered look as her eyes read the name: "La Stroi de la Foi". Mentally translating it, the woman bit her lip, not in anger, but in a sense of frustration. Orlando had always told her ((yes, I'm god-moding; flick me off, and we'll be even)), "If I ever find a comet, your name's going on it." Yet, here was the comet, and her name appeared nowhere on the paper. Making a mental note of the comet's coordinates, she set the document back inside and closed the dossier, placing it back upon the table and continuing to meander aimlessly.  
  
She walked first towards the window. Staring up into the mystical heavens, her verdant eyes immediately darted to the comet. A small gasp escaped her lips. When she had walked away from him so long ago, she hadn't realized exactly what she was sacrificing. In exchange for her pride, she paid with not only with a comet as her namesake, but Orlando's love, the feeling of protection his arms gave her, and the inexplicable feeling of loving someone who loved her.  
  
Averting her gaze, she lethargically began walking back across the room. Seeing an open door, she pushed it open a bit, bringing a pale green room into view. Upon the ground was a small pile of clothes, which she knew instinctively to be Orlando's- this was his room.  
  
Feeling frustration, pain, fear, remorse and, above all, loneliness, Demeter slowly made her way over to his bed, whose sheets were still crumpled from the night before. Lying down upon it, she pulled the sheets over herself and buried her head in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. Though she hadn't ever been one to cry, it was undeniable that tears were indeed falling from her eyes and moistening his pillow.  
  
Watching Orlando get up, Jake's eyes followed him until the other man was gone. After Orlando had left, Jake sat back, rubbing his eyes again. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled it slowly and deeply, finally looked over at Eddie. Eddie was staring straight at the floor, no hint of emotion on his face.  
  
"What do you think Eddie?" His voice coming out low, his stare ceased to remain on the other mane.  
  
"I want to hate him, but I can't." Looking over at Jake, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I would give anything to be with Isabelle. Gah...you know that, she knows that. And here he is, he's captured her heart, and now he's battling between whether to choose her or an ex-girlfriend. It just kills me. She doesn't deserve that..." Trailing off, he took another deep breath and stood up. Jake followed as well, checking his watch.  
  
"I suppose we should check on Kaytlin and Isabelle." Stretching as he stood, a small yawn escaped Jake's mouth. Walking towards the door, with Eddie following, Jake opened the door. Sighing with frustration, he looked over at the window. Checking Kayte's temperature, and satisfied that it was still dropping, he turned towards Eddie.  
  
"I hate it when Isabelle does this. I don't like her being out there on the streets alone," looking at the nightstand, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Especially without her wand. I'm sure she probably went to that park a few blocks up. Will you stay here with Kayte for me?" A pleading look in his eyes, Jake was already pulling his wand out.  
  
"Yeah. I think she needs you right now." Nodding, Eddie watched as Jake apparated, another sigh escaping him.  
  
****  
  
It didn't take Jake long to find Faithe, considering everytime the girl had ever been upset, this was her choice spot. Walking over to the bench, he sat down as a loud clap of thunder sounded out. At first he didn't look at her, merely gazed at the lake in front of the two.  
  
"It's gonna rain." Stating the obvious, Jake's voice came out soft, and he finally looked at her. It tore him up to see the look on her face, the tears on her cheeks. Sure, he had seen Faithe cry before, but this was different than before.  
  
"It just doesn't seem fair, Jake." Surprisingly, she spoke, but her voice came out soft, almost inaudible, and it was shakey. As soon as her mouth closed, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing once more. Reaching over, Jake wrapped his arms around her, pulling his sister into his arms.  
  
"I know, Izzy. It'll get better though." Talking softly, he stroked her hair gently. So many times she had been there for him when he felt desolate without Bridget, and he hated that he felt so helpless when she was in so much pain. Looking up at him, she gave him a grateful look.  
  
"I love you, big brother."  
  
"I love you too, little sister."  
  
Feeling his feet beneath him upon a solid floor once more, Orlando's eyes opened themselves and he began to hesitantly gaze around, searching the room for Demeter. Jake's words rang in his head; he had to talk to her. Maybe, if he could figure out how he was feeling about her now, as opposed to how he felt about her back then, he would be able to sort through the current situation from a better perspective. As long as he could make himself believe that she wasn't the woman she had been, that he wasn't in love with her anymore, everything would be alright. It might take him a little while to get over her again, but he could always fall back on the knowledge that she wasn't who she had been, and that things couldn't ever be like they were again.  
  
He did love Faithe now, and that was something beautiful. The way the two cared for each other- and about each other- and how they seemed to both mirror and complement the other was something inexplicable. But, Jake was right, if he couldn't prove to Faithe that he didn't love Demeter any more, and had chosen her over his past love not because of guilt but because it was truly she whom he desired, she wouldn't ever let him back into her life, and he would be alone- cursed by his own wrongdoing.  
  
A sigh escaped his lips as the room's vacancy became evident. If Demeter had gone, there was no way he could ever live again. His every waking moment would be plagued with thoughts of her, and there would be no overcoming such a fate. Wiping his face, he began gnawing once more on his tongue, and continued searching the room, maybe, just maybe, she was still there.  
  
The sound of a quiet, sorrowful moan ((Ooh- who's god-moding now? What up, shut up! :oP)) gradually came into his ears, causing his head to turn towards its origin- his bedroom. Walking at a somewhat quickened pace, he gently pushed open the door. There, clinging almost desperately to his pillow, and swathed in his sheets, was the familiar outline of Demeter Lawrance. She wasn't crying yet, only somewhat whimpering.  
  
"Oh, Dem." he whispered, walking across the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
His cerulean eyes now held a sort of remorseful look in them. No longer did he feel any sort of resentment towards the young woman for choosing such an inopportune time to return to his life; all he felt now was compunction, for her and Faithe both.  
  
Running a hand along her head, his fingers streamed through her hair soothingly. She needed to calm down, then, maybe, he could start talking to her, and beginning to sort this mess out.  
  
((Short? Yes. Crappy? Most certainly. Reply anyways, Rachel.))  
  
((Li- that wasn't short. Anyways, since you're not online right now, I simply have to post this here: my date with Devon was seriously the shit! He's amazing, Li. He took me down to MB and we went swimming, then went out for ice cream, then he came with me downtown so I could get that tattoo I was telling you about put on my back! One hell of a good time. Well, sorry about this post- it's going to be seriously screwy, coz I don't know how Dem should react.))  
  
As she felt his hand sweep through her hair, that familar calmness came over Demeter and she lifted her head up, gazing into his eyes with a longing look. It was in that moment when the full magnitude of the consequences her decision had had impacted the young woman.  
  
The sensation his being so near gave her brought back forgotten memories- she hadn't felt that way in such a long time. The peace his presence brought her, and the feeling that he would always be there lingered in her heart for a moment before she realized that those feelings were only lies- a security she was instilling in her mind. He wasn't hers anymore, but, maybe, if he realized that she wasn't as foolish as she once had been, she could somehow reattain what she had ignorantly given up all those years ago.  
  
Though she had had more than her share of boyfriends in the past two years, none had held a candle to Orlando. Now she knew that he was the only one she desired, and, looking back, now she realized that he had been right, in a sense, when he had told her that what they had done had been a mistake.  
  
Slowly raising herself up, she relinquished her graps on the pillow, instead, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head upon his chest, holding herself tightly against his body as though, if she let go, she would fall off a cliff.  
  
"I screwed up, 'lando," she whispered, "I let you go."  
  
Turning her head up so she could see him, she shifted an arm from around his back to atop his chest.  
  
"That night was nothing short of amazing, and, when I woke up in your arms, with your breath against my neck, I never wanted to move," she said quietly, "And when you said it had been a mistake, I was too young and too... too foolish to know you were right. We were nineteen- and it was a mistake...  
  
"No matter how absolutely incredible it was," she added with a bit of a sly undertone in her voice, punctuating the augmentation with a wink.  
  
"But now I know, 'lando," she continued, reverting to a serious tone," I'm older now, and I understand how the world works," she continued, fully believing that he would understand her now. She could see this thoughts again, and she could understand him again. Maybe, if she could show him that she understood him again, he would see that the only barrier in their relationship before was gone.  
  
"But -don't you see?- there was a reason I saw you walking tonight, 'lando," she implored, "For the past one and a half -nearly two- years, I've lived my life here in Manhattan, but, even with everything I've experienced, nothing has even come close to giving me the feeling that I had when I was with you.  
  
"I've missed you so much."  
  
Voice faded, she reached up a hand to stroke his cheekbone. Then, sliding her hand beneath his head, her eyes closed as she leaned upwards to kiss him, hoping that actions did indeed speak louder than words.  
  
((Rachel's gone for a few days at college drumline auditions, so I'm just going to God-mode my way through this.))  
  
As Demeter's arms encircled him, Orlando instinctively placed a hand on her back, gently running it along her spine. Then, as his gaze met her longing one, he had to close his eyes. Feeling her hand upon his chest, his hand mechanically flew atop it, entangling his fingers with hers. As though he had found something he had lost long ago, his hand gripped hers securely, ensuring that she wouldn't leave him again.  
  
Her words echoed in his head, and, for another moment, Faithe left his mind. He was back again, in the same place he had longed to be for so long: Demeter's arms. She was sorry and she had grown up- everything was alright now.  
  
"I've missed you, too," he whispered, leaning his head in as her fingers ran along his cheekbone, "More than you could ever know, Demi."  
  
Feeling the gap between them grow smaller, his free hand intuitively positioned itself on the back of her neck, and his lips offered hers a short, sweet, gentle kiss.  
  
Old emotions were coming back, he knew. And, if he wasn't careful, and didn't keep telling himself that she wasn't who she used to be, he knew that things could very easily get out of control, to say the least. He had to remain impartial, calm, and not let her get to him. If, in the end, he chose her, then things could be free to transpire as they would, but, until that moment came, he was Faithe's, and would remain true to her.  
  
Pulling back, away from Demeter, he breathed a small sigh of frustration.  
  
"Faithe," he stated, "I love Faithe, now."  
  
He sighed mentally at the thought of the young woman. A torrent of memories poured from the vault in his mind; from just watching her with the same admiration she watched him with during class and taking her up to the stars with him on his broomstick to having her dump an entire bowl of French toast batter on his head and falling asleep with her safe inside the embrace of his arms, he was hit with a tsunami of emotion.  
  
He did love her. How else could he feel about her? He had trusted her with things that no other living or nonliving being had ever known before, and she had trusted him the same way. They had the same undying passion for astronomy, similar problems with their parents, and an understanding of one another that rivaled his and Demeter's. And, more than that, he knew that if he chose Demeter in the end, Faithe would be crippled forever. She didn't trust many people and, if she let someone in, and was hurt, it would be a long time before she opened up like that again. Jake was right, though, he reminded himself yet again. He couldn't choose Faithe just because of what effects the alternative would have on her.  
  
At the sound of his voice, at the touch of his hand, at the moment his eyes met hers, Demeter found herself indulged in the fantasy that Orlando was once more hers. Out of her mind, out of control, and filled with feelings she couldn't define, she let her passion manifest itself as he kissed her.  
  
The release of his lips from hers was gentle enough for her not to know the reason, and her eyes lit up as a smile crossed her face, which quickly faded as the name "Faithe" was whispered from Orlando's lips. Presuming that she was the girl he had run off after, Demeter's happy mien melted into a sorrowful one.  
  
"Then why are you kissing me?" she asked quietly, yet matter-of-factly.  
  
Another crack of thunder boomed loudly over the city of Manhattan. Jumping slightly at the sudden crack, Faithe and Jake both jumped slightly on the bench. Sitting up, Faithe's eyes stared down at the lake, what few stars that hadn't yet been covered by the clouds reflecting lightly. Rubbing her face tiredly, a small sigh escaped her. Jake placed his hand lightly on her back, rubbing his hand up and down in an attempt to comfort her.  
  
"I'm writing a play." Speaking softly, he changed to subject in hopes of calming her down...at least for the time being. "Well, technically it's written. I just need to go back and proof it and edit it and whatnot." Turning her eyes from the lake to her brother, Faithe nodded. She was trying to look interested, and there was a part of her that really was, but there was a vacancy to her expression. Her eyes carried the look of a lost child.  
  
"What's it about?" Her voice still shaking, she spoke softly, her eyes squinting slightly.  
  
"I'll let you read it when we get back to the apartment. I really do want your input on it. I know you aren't a huge theatre person, and you only do it because Mom and Dad make you, but you do have the talent." Looking down for a moment, he looked back up, a hopeful smile on his face. "Besides, I wouldn't trust anybody else to be my editor."  
  
Forcing a half smile to appease Jake, Faithe nodded, silently accepting his not so well hidden plea. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her again, hugging her tightly. He needed to talk to her about Kaytlin, but he didn't know if the time was appropriate. Some people preferred to hear bad news when they were already having problems, and others preferred to only handle one at a time. Knowing his sister was the former, he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.  
  
"Isabelle, there's something I need to tell you." Looking at her with a look of grief and worry, Faithe immediately felt a chill settling in her stomach. "It...it's about Kayte. I got a call from Bridget last week...she wants Kaytlin."  
  
Demeter Lawrance had a darn good point. If Orlando was so in love with Faithe, then why did he continue hurting her by being incapable of preventing his lips from caressing hers? Sighing, the poor, distraught man closed his eyes and turned away from Demeter for a moment, letting his hand slid down the back of her neck onto her shoulder, then, from there, down her arm to her hand, and, from there, off, onto the bed.  
  
"Do you remember back in first year when the Athena quidditch team all bought new Thunderers? he asked, seemingly dazed, "And how all of us first years wanted them more than anything in the world? Then, when we finally made the team in our seventh year, we got them, and it was the best thing in the world to us?  
  
"It's like that."  
  
Not expecting her to understand his lame parallel, he continued.  
  
"When you've wanted something for so long, and haven't been able to have it, the very moment that you can, everything else slips your mind. All you can think about it how badly you longed for it and how it's sitting right in front of you..."  
  
Turning back to her, he ran a hand down her cheek, tenderly, but there was something about his touch that was no longer romantic, but more absentminded.  
  
"Since the day you left me until the day I fell in love with Faithe, you plagued my every thought, and I would have given anything for you. Just to hold you in my arms, to feel your hand in mine, to taste your lips... But it never happened, Dem. And now, here you are, and, after all that time, the lust has just built up, and, that, is why I'm kissing you."  
  
A light rain had begun to speckle the ground as Jake spoke, but Faithe hadn't even noticed. The words were a slap in the face, adding to the knife in her back and her broken up heart. Ignoring the rain drops that were beginning to fall heavier and faster, soaking the two figures in a matter of minutes. Standing up rather abruptly, pure anger shone on her face.  
  
Anger was an emotion Faithe had only truly felt a handful of times in her life, and less than that had she actually shown that anger. Her eyebrows narrowed as her brown eyes seemed to grow black in the shadow of the storm.  
  
"No! She has no right to that child!" Raising her voice slightly, Faithe brought her hands up to the side of her face. Rubbing her temples, she took a deep breath and sat back down. Brushing a lock of her sopping wet hair out of her face, she looked back at Jake, a look of disbelief in her eyes.  
  
"Nobody knows that more than I do Izzy. I wish I knew what brought this sudden interest on, but I don't." Sighing, he leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. Reaching up, he brushed his dripping bangs out of his face.  
  
Standing, Faithe wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly from the cold rain pelting at her. Walking towards the direction she had come from, Faithe walked away from Jake without a word. She didn't know where she was going, she really didn't care. Of course, Jake wouldn't let her get away that easily. Standing, he jogged after her, slowly to match her stride. Once he had accomplished that, he reached out and took her shoulders, pulling her to a halt.  
  
"Isabelle, don't walk off by yourself in this city. Please! You know I hate it when you do that." Speaking softly, there was nothing but concern in his voice for sister. Feeling tears well up in her eyes again, Faithe looked away, biting her bottom lip.  
  
"I just need to be alone right now Jake. Just because you got mugged doesn't mean it's going to happen to me." Voice almost inaudible, she finally looked at him, a look of urgancy in her voice and her expression.  
  
Sighing, he let go of her shoulders, "I know, I'm worried that something worse might happen. Fine, just please don't be out all night. And try to stay out of this rain. Please?" He was very reluctant to let her go, and even considered following her, but knew she'd be furious if she caught him. Watching her nod, he sighed once more before apparating, still feeling uneasy.  
  
She stood there a couple minutes before walking into the city, once again unsure of where she was going, and not caring where she ended up.  
  
Listening to him speak, Demeter's face fell. She knew what was coming: an "I don't love you anymore, Demi." Yet, those words never left Orlando's mouth, and from what he did say, she didn't gather that he had even thought the words. or maybe he had. She couldn't tell. Before, she could tell exactly what Orlando had been thinking just by the color and shape of his eyes. Now, she was at a loss- not knowing if she was wanted or not.  
  
"Do you love me?" she asked, throwing her thoughts out for him to see.  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
Orlando's response was simple, and, more than that, quick. He hadn't had to think about it at all; he loved Faithe, and, just as Jake had predicted, the only thing he loved about Demeter was the memory.  
  
A spark of fiery fury flashed in Demeter's green eyes, accompanied by an afterglow of hurt. She felt used. She had followed him up the steps entranced by memories, and then, feeling his lips kiss hers with the same passion and urgency hers had kissed his with, she had found herself overcome by rapture, thinking that, somehow, everything could just go back to normal. Now, he was telling her that he didn't love her anymore and that the only reason he had kissed her was some sick, sexual lust.  
  
"I'm sorry, Demi," Orlando added after seeing her emotions through her eyes.  
  
"No, you're not," Demeter replied, putting a hand up as she rolled off the bed and stood up.  
  
A feeling of betrayal coursed through her veins. Although so much time had passed, she still thought of him as hers, and, now that she was ready, he should be there to take her back; she had realized her mistake and was trying to fix it. Why couldn't he see that they could have everything again? All the feelings they'd share could come back. But, no, he was in love with someone else now, or so he said. Demeter didn't believe it, though. The girl whose face she had seen was clearly younger than him, she thought bitterly, probably one of his students.  
  
Overcome with hurt, Demeter's mind began subconsciously implementing its defense system, which involved criticizing and finding faults with anything that had hurt her; in some way, it was as though she was trying to tell herself she was better off without him. Bitter, betrayed and feeling oh-so- terribly alone in the world, she looked over her shoulder and cast a sad glare his way.  
  
"But you will be," she added, taking a deep breath to control herself. He wasn't going to see her cry.  
  
Taken slightly aback by her comment, a quizzical look passed over Orlando's face as he, too, stood up, on the opposite side of the bed from her. What was that supposed to mean?  
  
"There was some reason I saw you tonight, Orlando," Demeter stated calmly, turning to face him, "The past year, [I]you[/I]'ve plagued [I]my[/I] mind, and, I finally realized that [I]I[/I] made a mistake. I came to you to apologize and reconcile, and you kiss me, then run off with your other girl, come back after you realize you can't get her back tonight, kiss me again, and then tell me that you don't love me anymore. what the hell?  
  
"She can't possibly understand what we had, Orlando. How old is she? Eighteen maybe? That's too young. She doesn't know you, and she never will- not how I know you, at least. Go ahead, though: give it a try. She saw you kissing me though, and she seems smart enough to know that you still have feelings for me inside your mind that aren't ever going to die. It's me you want, and, if you think she's going to understand our past, and accept you for that, then, be my guest, [I]mon cher[/I], and run off after your damsel. I can tell you right now that she won't though. You've ruined your chance with her.  
  
"Don't worry, though; she wasn't right for you anyways."  
  
After waiting a moment, just to stare at his face, Demeter turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom, then, out of the hotel room, leaving Orlando to himself.  
  
=========================================================  
  
Had he not been so incredibly confident in how he felt about Faithe, Demeter's spiteful, scorning words might have shaken his resolve and led him to run after her. Instead, though, he merely shook his head as she spoke, knowing that the veracity of her words was tainted with human emotion. He truly was sorry that he had hurt her, but, c'est la vie. Although he still cared about her, it wasn't the way she wanted, and, so, it was better for the both of them if he just let her go. Casting his eyes over to the nightstand, he picked up the abandoned hair-tie Faithe had left there earlier that morning. Sighing to himself, he absentmindedly rolled it between his fingers, recalling the earlier events of the day.  
  
In that moment of reflection, Demeter had waited outside the hotel room door, secretly hoping to hear Orlando come running after her, as he had done with that other girl. But, after waiting a few minutes in silence, she came to the sad realization that Orlando wasn't coming after her, and, slowly and sorrowfully began to descend the staircase that she had climbed not too long ago.  
  
Winding the elastic around the fingers of his right hand, Orlando wandered back into the foyer of the double penthouse suite, and, from there, out onto the wonderful balcony. Closing his eyes, he sat himself upon the railing, with his back to the city, but his head turned out. The cold, brutal torrent of rain almost felt sickening nice as it pummeled him. The physical pain sort of dulled the emotional one in a sense.  
  
Reaching a hand inside the left front pocket of his brown duster, his fingers closed themselves around the small, velvety jewelry box he had purchased earlier in the evening, on his way back from the observatory. That morning the thought had come to him, and, although he wasn't planning on asking her anytime before school ended, it wasn't often that he had both the spare cash necessary and a store to make such a purchase at the same time. He knew he was going to ask her; it was just a matter of when. Inside the box lay a simple, yet elegant, gold band adorned with a diamond-like stone; it was an engagement ring.  
  
In the center was a rather large, gaudy Muggle diamond. On both sides of that gem were smaller ones known as Alexandrites. Normally, those stones changed color with the light, but Orlando had had them enchanted to change colors with Orlando's emotions, as a sort of security for Faithe. On a normal day they wouldd be rather consistently green; when he was feeling particularly strongly or amorously towards her, they would be a deep shade of blue; if his heart was ever untrue, though, they would turn a brilliant, fiery red. At that particular moment, it had just the slightest hint of red left over in it from the past few minutes' events, but was reverting to a green color.  
  
He had screwed up royally, in that regard, Demeter had been right. Squeezing the box one last time, he relinquished it, pulling his hands out of his pockets and folding them over his lap. In just one moment, everything that had been built up for so long crumbled, and he was left with the shards of their relationship. How he was going to ever regain her trust, and, for that matter, her love, remained a mystery to Orlando. Wiping his hand down his face, he sighed again before glancing up at the sky.  
  
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. The rain continued to pour harder and harder as the lonely, wet figure walked aimlessy through the city. Her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, weighted down by the driving rain. Whether she was crying, or the small water droplets cascading down her cheeks were rain drops she didn't know, nor did she really care much.  
  
Despite the quilt of emotions inside of her, she was surprised that she didn't feel anger inside of her. Towards Demeter, Orlando...herself. She upset with herself, but anger wasn't the word she would use. I shouldn't be surprised. This was too good to be true. Turning into a small, desolate park her pace slowed as she dawdled. Orlando had been perfect, too perfect to be real in her life. She should have known by now that her life wasn't a fairy tale, unless it was written by the Grimm brothers.  
  
Her head was starting to spin slightly, so she stopped and leaned against a rusted out swing set. Stress was beginning to make her weary, and the cold rain and being in the same breathing space with a sick little girl was beginning to take its toll on her. Shaking her head slightly, she stepped forward with every intention of heading back to Jake's. Reaching the empty sidewalk in front of the park, she stopped again rather abruptly. Rubbing her forehead, her eyebrows furrowed as an almost violent wave of dizzyness overcame her.  
  
Her vision became blurred, and slowly blackened as she fainted. As she fell, her head scraped against the cement, scraping the skin above her eyebrow. From the shadows an old man jogged towards her, bending down immediately.  
  
"Las? Las, can ya hear me?" A gruff, aged voice spoke softly, but firmly as he gently lifted her torso. Looking around, he saw nobody with her, and realized that she was alone. Without a second though, the old man, a white haired veteran with a slight Irish accent, lifted her easily into his arms. Walking as fast as he could with the surprisingly light girl in his arms, the figure disapeared into the darkness.  
  
"She's fine Jake. Isabelle can take care of herself." Eddie mentioned for the tenth time in the past half hour as he set a fresh cup of coffee in front of Jake.  
  
"I know she can take care of herself in Rosencrantz. Here is a different story. I'd feel better if she had her wand, or something. It's almost 2 a.m." Picking up the cup, he sipped it slowly, needing it more for the warmth than anything. "I shouldn't have left her..." Repeating the words that he'd been whispering ever since he got home, Jake shook his head and stared at the floor.  
  
"Look, you'll wake up in the morning, and she'll be crashed here on the couch." Eddie was trying to be comforting, but he couldn't help but admit to himself that he was worried about her. Sure, Isabelle had left before when she was upset, but she had never stayed out this late without getting in touch with them. Still, if something were wrong, they'd know about it. I hope...  
  
The cold, bitter rain continued to beat down upon Orlando as he sat upon the balcony railing, left hand still in his pocket. Every so often his fingers would gather the small box in their grasp again, squeeze it for a moment, and then relinquish it again. His face had once more adopted that haunting, vacant look to it. Staring out at the city, thoughts afflicted the man- thoughts of Faithe, of Demeter, and of how to get himself out of the mess he had somehow ambled into.  
  
He knew exactly what he had to do- which was to make reparations- but hadn't a plan to go about making such a miracle happen. There were too many people involved, and each person had their own feelings that would have to be subdued and their own view of the situation. First, there was Demeter. Cruel as the young woman's bitter remarks had been, Orlando knew her well enough to know that she didn't really mean them all; she was hurt, and the way she released her emotions was letting her sharp tongue flick a menagerie of crisp consonants off in the form of spiteful words, hoping to make someone feel sympathy for her. Little did she know, Orlando already did feel sympathy for her- he just didn't show it in the way she wanted him too.  
  
Then there was Faithe- his darling, beautiful, amazing, intelligent, trusting, loyal Faithe. Sighing, he put his head to his hands, wondering what force could have possibly made him hurt her how he had. Her trust wasn't an easy thing to gain, and he had won it, and thrown it away. Not only had he probably scarred her emotionally for life, but he had given up what the two had had- an indescribable bond: love. Not to say he didn't still love her- for he most certainly did- but the trust that fueled that love would have to be rebuild again, and who knew how long that would take? And who knew how he was supposed to do it?  
  
His thoughts turned next to Jake. There wasn't much he could do there. Until he had completely reconciled with Faithe, his relationship with him would be wary. Then, finally, there was Eddie- who was no doubt enjoying this and taking advantage of Faithe's lack of affection for Orlando at the moment.  
  
Sliding his legs up onto the wet railing, he pulled them into his chest, lying his head upon them. With another sigh, his eyes closed. He had to go back to Jake's and talk to Faithe, who, based off what Jake had said earlier, Orlando assumed was there. Surely she, too, couldn't be sleeping. Concentrating the remainder of his energy on apparating, the man soon found himself at Jake's door again.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he knocked quietly upon the wooden, or perhaps, metal, door.  
  
"Jake..?" he called quietly, again, feeling that same feeling of dread in his stomach.  
  
Groaning slightly from the headache that was plaguing her, Faithe reached up and rested her hand on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she had to blink a few times before her blurred vision cleared. Looking up from what he was doing, the old man moved slowly towards her.  
  
Gasping, Faithe sat up quickly, backing as far against the wall as she could. Her brown eyes that were normally so calm were now filled with terror. Breathing hard, she continued to push against the wall, unsure of what to do.  
  
"Easy, las. I'm not gonna hurt ya." Speaking softly, he reached out a hand, palm down, in a silent move to calm the frightened girl. Jumping as he outstretched his hand, her eyes showed that she clearly didn't believe him.  
  
"Wh-what do you want with me?" The trembling in her voice made her sound like a little girl, but she didn't care at the moment. Why did it seem as if nothing ever happened until somebody voiced their concern about something happening? Hearing a soft whine to her right, her eyes darted in the direction the soft sound had come from. Sitting on his haunches was a brown mutt, his head tilted slightly as he looked at her curiously. Sitting down a few feet in front of her, hoping to lessen her intimidation, the old man looked at her, inspecting the cut above her eyebrow.  
  
"I want ya to let me dress that wound of yours." There was an authority to his voice, but not an evasive, demanding authority. The first thought that fled to her mind was that of a grandfather telling his grandson not to jump out of a tree, knowing he'd get hurt. Offering a smile, he shook his head, "I saw you fall in the park, las. I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't. I didn't want to startle you, but you needed to be taken out of the rain." Scooting a little bit harder, he showed her a bottle of peroxide and a clean cotton ball. "I promise ya, las, I'm not gonna hurt ya."  
  
There was still a lot of tension in her, but she figured she didn't have much choice but too trust the old man. Relaxing the look of anxiety on her face, she allowed her stature to relax, though every sense in her body was on high alert. Scooting closer to her, he poured the clear liquid on the cotton ball, almost soaking it completely. Reaching out, he tipped her head slightly, examining the two inch long cut.  
  
"This is probably gonna sting a little." Still speaking softly, he dabbed the cut gingerly. Wincing from the stinging sensation, Faithe unintentionally started to pull away, but he held her chin firmly, yet gently. Continuing to dab lightly, he looked at her, a gentle expression in his eyes, "I'm Aaron Cutfield, and that's Bob." Motioning towards the dog with his eyes, he continued to smile at her, trying his hardest not to make her think he was going to hurt her.  
  
Finally beginning to relax a little bit, Faithe's eyes looked around their surroundings while he spoke. They were in a broken down home that had long since been abandoned. Two of the side walls had been torn down, or had fallen from age. There were two lanterns, brightly lit and a pallet of blankets, which she had been laying on. There were few trinkets, but those he had were in fairly good condition.  
  
"I'm Faithe Cunningham." Speaking with a little bit more confidence, she rolled her neck as soon as he had finished. Looking around once more, her eyes settled on the man before her. He was dresses in dark cotton pants that had seen better days, and a dark t-shirt that was faded and worn. A dark green trenchcoat had been laid on the back of a three legged chair to dry from the rain. His pale skin had been darkened from the days in the sun, but despite the fact that he was homeless, there was a lot of confidence in the man's dark green eyes.  
  
"Well, Miss Cunningham, you are more than welcome to stay here for the remainder of our little rain storm if you wish. I'm sorry I startled ya, it was never my intention." Standing up, he walked over to a small Wal-Mart bag and threw the cotton ball inside, undoubtedly being the closest thing to a trash can. Looking up at him with a rather sheepish expression, she nodded slowly.  
  
"Thank you." She'd gotten this far without him doing anything, and she assumed that if he were going to harm her, he would have done it already.  
  
****  
  
Hearing the knock on the door, Jake's head snapped up quickly, a hopeful expression crossing his for a moment. That fire quickly blew out when he heard Orlando's voice come from the other side. He started to stand, but Eddie shook his head, signaling that he'd get the door. Walking over, he pulled the door over, a slightly hopeful look that maybe Faithe happened to be with him. He wasn't too hopeful though, which meant there wasn't much disapointment when he saw a wet Orlando in front of him, alone. Closing the door behind him, he exhaled a deep breath.  
  
Standing rather anxiously, Jake looked at him, searching his face. "I don't suppose you've seen Isabelle, have you?" There wasn't much hope in his voice as he spoke, but he figured that it wouldn't hurt to ask.  
  
As the door opened, Orlando quickly passed through it, eyes darting around in search of Faithe. Opening his mouth to ask where she was, Jake cut him off.  
  
Stopping dead in his tracks, Orlando's face fell and his eyes widened in a sort of panic.  
  
"She's not here?" he asked with an urgent undertone in his voice.  
  
At Jake's negative response, Orlando's brilliant blue eyes turned slate blue with worry, darting from Jake to Eddie, and then turning gray with vacancy, complementing the new look on his face.  
  
"I came over here to talk to her..." he said, in somewhat of a daze. "She was here. She was safe..."  
  
Completely zoned-out due to shock and immense worry, Orlando's hands hung limply to his sides, although the left one was in his pocket, still. His eyes were glazed over with ambiguity and the skin seemed to hang off of his face.  
  
A thousand and one horrifying scenarios flew through Orlando's mind, only worrying him further. Where could she be? In a city like Manhattan, she could be in a million places, having a million things happen to her. For all he knew she was lying face-down in a sewer, being stepped on by drug- addicts. As more terrifying possibilities crossed his mind, the man gradually came back to life, or, something like it.  
  
His breathing was rapid and panicky, and his eyes reflected nothing by worry, fear and dread. Running his fingers over the hairband that remained wound on his right thumb, his left hand's fingers closed tightly around the box in his pocket. Without a second thought, he turned towards the door. Halfway through it, he snapped his head around.  
  
"Where was she headed?"  
  
"If I may ask, Miss Cunningham, what is a young girl like yourself doing out on the streets alone at this hour? Rather unsafe if you ask me." He wasn't being evasive, he just needed to know if she was in some sort of trouble. He had met all sorts of people during all his years on the streets. If she needed help, he was there to give it. Wrapping a tattered, but warm, blanket that Aaron had handed her around her shoulders, she felt the warmth immediately.  
  
"I just...needed to get away for a few hours. Be alone and think." Sighing, she turned her eyes on one of the lanterns, trying to bite down the stinging sensation in her eyes from the prickling tears. Flipping her dark hair off her shoulder, she shivered as the wind hit her neck. The old man nodded, a knowing look on his weathered face.  
  
"Ah, we all need to get away sometimes. Life seems to throw things in our way that seem overwhelming. If we don't get away, we're liable to snap." Years of experience were speaking to her through the voice of Aaron Cutfield. "Just keep in mind, no matter how bad things get, they will get better in time." Offering a warm and compassionate smile, the man reminded Faithe of her mother's father. He was always full of advice, and it usually held quite a bit of wisdom in it. Smiling for the first time since she had walked in nnon Orlando and Demeter, a look of warmth spread over her face.  
  
****  
  
"Whoa, easy!" Eddie grabbed Orlando's arm lightly to prevent him from taking off. "Jake, don't scare the man, and quit scaring yourself. Whenever Isabelle is upset, she goes off for a walk by herself." Letting go of his arm, he walked back over to the couch and sat down.  
  
"I know Eddie, but I've never known her to stay gone this long." Anxiety showed in Jake's face and his tone when he spoke.  
  
Sighing, Eddie nodded. "You also have to take into consideration that, and this isn't aimed at you Orlando, Faithe has never been this upset. At least, not in this sense. Give her time. She'll be back. She's a smart girl. It's raining pretty hard out there, and she probably just ducked into a coffee shop to wait until the rain gets lighter." Sighing, Jake nodded. Eddie was right, Faithe wasn't stupid.  
  
Looking up at Orlando, he shook his head, "What did you need to talk to her about?"  
  
Feeling Eddie's hand on his arm, Orlando's head snapped back to look him in the face. Had the look in the other man's eyes not been what it was, Orlando would have most certainly shook his hand off. Instead, he merely bit his lip and listened. When Eddie had finished, his eyes darted to Jake, trying to judge the situation.  
  
Jake's words confirmed Orlando's thoughts; he was worried, and, therefore, Orlando was worried.  
  
Gnawing on his tongue as Eddie spoke again, Orlando shook his head from side to side. His divination talent was proving itself once more as he got a slight sinking feeling in his stomach. Faithe wasn't just in some coffee shop somewhere... something had happened. He didn't know exactly what, though.  
  
Sighing, he reluctantly shut the door, taking into consideration Jake's calmer expression. He wouldn't go off in search of her, a least not yet.  
  
Glancing at Jake, his eyes rolled just slightly.  
  
"What else?" he replied, slightly condenscendingly.  
  
Catching himself, his face instantly went apologetic.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just... I talked to Demi, and... I don't know how to fix this."  
  
With another sigh, he moseyed over and sat himself on the arm of a chair, shaking his head.  
  
"How do you win back someone's trust when you just slapped them in the face?"  
  
Bob crawled over on his belly and rested his head in her lap. Looking up at her with big brown eyes, Faithe reached up and began stroking his head absentmindedly. Turning her eyes from Bob, she searched Mr. Cutfield's face once more.  
  
"How did you end up on the streets? If you don't mind my asking..." Speaking softly, she had begun to relax, and it was evident in her tone.  
  
"No, I don't mind you askin' one bit. I was a soldier in the Vietnam War. Got promised a lot of money by the government, was over there so long I lost my house and everything. Got back to the states, government didn't give me the money. Happened to a lot of us." Shrugging nonchalantly, he spoke as if the news was nothing different. "Been on the streets ever since."  
  
Shaking her head, Faithe squinted her eyes thoughtfully as she wathed him talk. "I'm sorry. Isn't there anything you could do? A job? Anything?"  
  
"I've had offers in the past, but I've declined. It's not that I don't miss sleeping in a real bed, but I feel like like I make a better contribution out here on the streets. If I had been in a house, I wouldn't have been there tonight to make sure nothing happened to you." Smiling, he reached over and turned one of the lanterns off, causing their surroundings to darken even more. "Now, little one, I would suggest you getting some rest for the remainder of the night. The rain should be gone by the morning."  
  
Nodding, she followed suit and turned the other one off as well. "Thank you again." Laying down, she felt the warm body of Bob laying next to her. Staring at the wall, she sighed inaudibly. There was no way she would be able to sleep, she knew that, but she obliged the old man by lying down. Finally in the darkness once more, she allowed warm tears to fall silently down her cheek.  
  
*****  
  
Jake nodded as he talked, Orlando's short attitude not even phasing him. Sighing, he sat back on the couch. It took him a moment to realize that he had meant his expression figuratively and not literally. Eddie flinched at the comment, it playing a reminder in his head.  
  
"Everything will work out in the end Orlando." Jake was speaking now, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His voice was patient as he spoke, once again picking up the warm coffee cup. "She just needs some time to be alone. Have you made any decisions?" Sipping his coffee slowly, there was a pensive look on his face as he stared at the ground. "You're more than welcome to crash here tonight if you want. I have to get up early and go test some new equipment down on stage. I'll try not to wake you thought if you want to sleep on the couch. The two of you need to talk, and she won't go back to the hotel."  
  
Seeing Eddie's flinch out of the corner of his eye, Orlando glanced up, cringing slightly. He hadn't realized what effect those specific words might have had. In fact, so caught up was he in present affairs, the events of the night before had slipped his mind momentarily. Although, seeing Eddie's reaction, he instantly recalled them.  
  
"Sorry," he murmured, "That wasn't intentional..."  
  
Sighing again, Orlando just shook his head, once more hiding his face with his hands. Of course it would work out in the end, but he couldn't wait that long. He wanted everything to work out- and work out how he wanted it to- right then. Yet, he knew that the only way that would happen was if he took the initiative himself and made it so. But, again, he didn't know quite how...  
  
Raising his head up at Jake's question, Orlando nodded. He loved Faithe, not Demeter; he was sorry for letting physical lust surpass rational thought; he wanted to go back to how things had been that morning... Yes, the man certainly had made some decisions. He was still confused, mind you, but, at least, now, he knew what he wanted in the end.  
  
"You were right," he stated quietly, glancing ever-so-slightly at Jake, "This only thing about Demi that I'm still in love with it the memory. I do love Faithe, now- only Faithe... I just don't know how to make this right- how I'm ever going to make her see that.  
  
"I screwed up royally, and I still can't rationalize exactly how or why it happened. One moment I'm sauntering into our hotel room with a comet certificate under my arm and an engagement ring in my pocket, waiting for the single most amazing woman in the world to walk through the doors, and then, in a split-second, I'm kissing my old girlfriend, who I haven't seen since the day she walked out on me over a year ago... By the time I realize what I'm doing, though, my angel- ma Foi- has already seen it, and my world's fallen apart. I don't want Demeter, but I've inadvertently pushed Faithe away..."  
  
Realizing what had just slipped out of his lips, Orlando's eyes went wide as he warily glanced over at the two men, biting half of his lower lip nervously. How fickle he must seem to thm, going back and forth between Faithe and Demeter like that, and, then, still thinking of asking Gaithe to marry him. Heh... He wasn't worthy of such an honor; he wasn't even worthy of thinking of asking for such a priviledge.  
  
"Please, don't mention that to her," he entreated quietly.  
  
Darting his eyes about in a sort of nervous, sheepish, shifty glance, he resumed gnawing on his tongue and silently scolding himself for making a fool of himself. Closing his eyes for another moment, the second thing Jake had said came back into his mind. Thankful for a new topic, to save what was left of his dignity, he quickly opened his mouth to comment on it.  
  
"I won't be sleeping tonight," he stated somberly, "But, if you're sure that you wouldn't mind, I would like to wait up for her here, because we do need to talk..."  
  
Eddie shook his head at Orlando's apology, "No need. I deserved it."  
  
Jake leaned in as Orlando spoke, nodding with acknowledgement that his advice had been worth something. It was sort of weird to be listening to this man talk about how much he loved his sister. Not because of who he was, but just because his sister had never been the relationship type. He had seen many guys show an advent interest in her, and she had inadvertanly broken many hearts because she was just never interested in dating anybody.  
  
quote:  
...an engagement ring in my pocket  
  
  
Jake's eyes shot open and his jaw dropped to the ground. He was in too much shock to speak, but his mouth was moving as if he were trying to say something. Eddie's grip on the chair tightened considerably, but he did an effective job of hiding the anger that was secretly brewing up inside of him.  
  
As he asked the two not to mention the news to Faithe, Jake silently nodding, finally managing to close his mouth. Mom and Dad are not going to be too happy about this... That was true. Debbie and Mark had secretly had their hearts set on Faithe one day marrying Eddie, or at least some other man in theatre. Particularly, their theatre. He like Orlando, though, and was willing to do whatever he needed to help him win Faithe back.  
  
The wheels in his head began turning, and a pensive stare overtook his face. He was needing to test some stage equipment in the morning, and he was going to get Faithe up there to help. Knowing she would object, he would press until she gave in. She needed something to take her mind off of everything. Snapping his fingers suddenly, he sat up straighter.  
  
"I have an idea. Eddie, will you help us? This may involve the two of you pulling an all nighter at the hotel." A mischevious grin spread over his boyish face, almost hiding the exhaustion in his eyes.  
  
A bright, embarrassed blush rouged Orlando's cheeks as Jake's mouth hung open and his eyes grew wide. Thankfully, the combination of the room's darkness and Orlando's tanned skin downplayed the reddening effect. Biting half his lower lip again, he resumed gnawing nervously on his tongue as he waited for the man's reply to his request.  
  
Silently sighing with immense relief, Orlando's mind cleared a little bit more. Faithe couldn't know; her knowing would be taking too great of a risk. She would either realize just how much he did love her, and reconicilation would be closer to his grasp. Or, what he feared more, she would find him to be fickle and arrogant, daring to hold onto such a possession when he had just kissed his ex-girlfriend the day before. Certainly that wouldn't bode well for their relationship...  
  
As Jake's face was overcome with a pensive look and silence once more cloak the room, Orlando gnawed harder on his tongue. There seemed to be a tension in the room that one could cut with a knife, and he didn't exactly appreciate it. His brilliant blue eyes darted from Eddie to Jake and then back around random places in the room.  
  
At Jake's snap, Orlando nearly jumped, caught off guard. As the man explained the basic idea, a wary expression contorted Orlando's face. He hadn't ever been much of a singer, or musical person at all for that matter. Still, the romantic side of him couldn't help but find Jake's idea absolutely endearing. Nodding with a grateful smile at Jake, he shrugged, and then cast a glance at Eddie.  
  
"Should we get going then?" he asked.  
  
Standing up, Eddie forced a smile that could easily be read as genuine towards Orlando and nodded. Sighing, he stretched his arms out to relieve the stress of sitting most the night. "Yup! Time for voice lessons 101! See ya at the hotel. I'll probably need you to open the door for me since I can't apparate directly into the room." Closing his eyes, Eddie disapeared from the apartment.  
  
Jake stood and stretched out his hand. "Good luck. He's a perfectionist, don't take what he says personally." Winking, he grinned at Orlando. "Let's get the two of you back together. Or at least try. Keep in mind, this may not fix the problem entirely. It will, however, let her know that you're willing to sacrifice yourself for her, and it will let her know that she is the one you want to be with."  
  
****  
  
Hearing a soft noise, Faithe rolled over. She hadn't slept a wink, but she had been dazed, almost as out of tune with her surroundings as a post traumatic shock patient. Sitting up, she expected to see Mr. Cutfield walking around, but found that he had somehow slipped out without her knowing. Wrinkling her eyebrows, she stood up. Bob was still there, still sleeping.  
  
Looking around outside the house, she found him nowhere, and decided he had already taken off. She wanted to thank him one last time, but knew she couldn't wait forever. Jake would be worried sick, and she was probably in for a lecture. Big brothers... Of course, she couldn't blame him one bit.  
  
The rain had quit just a few hours ago, and though most the clouds had disapated, there was still a good amount of cloud coverage to cover the blinding sun. Shivering slightly from her clothes that were still slightly dampened from the rain, she made her way towards Jake's. Walking past a parked car, she looked at her reflection in the tinted window. Her hair was a mess, her clothes slightly dirty, and the cut was about two inches along, running adjacant to her eyebrow. She looked like a street bum all right.  
  
Reaching the building, she climbed the stairs. Entering the apartment quietly, her eyes fell on the image of her brother who had clearly falled asleep on the couch. Wincing, she tip toed into her room and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes. Taking a quick shower, she now stood, dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue tank top. Pulling out some rubbing alcohol, she applied some by way of Q-tip to the cut, biting her lip so hard she almost broke the skin. Whimpering from the pain, she quickly put the bottle back underneath the sink.  
  
Walking out, she soon found herself standing in front of a not so happy looking Jake Cunningham. Her gaze dropped to the ground, knowing he was angry with her. Expecting him to yell at her, she braced herself. Sighing, Jake reached down and lifted her cheek, his eyebrows furrowing at her face. "What in the world happened?" His anger was replaced by worry, expecting the worse. She was mugged...I knew something would happen.  
  
Shaking her head, she pulled her face out of his hand, "I'm all right. I fainted, and I think I skinned it on the cement. Somebody helped me though..." Speaking softly, she bit her bottom lip. She hated it when Jake was upset with her, even if he had justification, she didn't like the tension from him.  
  
Pulling her into a tight hug, he sighed again. "Don't scare me like that again kiddo. Especially after you told me you wouldn't be out late." Pulling back, he kept his hands on her shoulders, a small smile spreading over his face. "Just for making me worry, you get to be my helper today. We got a bunch of equipment yesterday, and guess who gets to test it?"  
  
Immediately, Faithe began shaking her head. "No, Jake please." There was a soft pleading in her tone as she looked at him. "I'm not in the mood."  
  
"Normally I would care, but not today." He knew that by saying that, she wouldn't think that he was saying he didn't care that she was upset, so he had no worries about that. "Izzy, you need to do something besides mope around. Now come one, you owe me. You know you're going to end up on stage anyways, so you may as well just not argue a losing battle."  
  
Sticking her tongue out, she sighed, nodding slowly. "Fine...what am I singing?" The reluctance in her voice was quite obvious, but Jake didn't care. Taking her hand, he started dragging her towards the door.  
  
"Lovely. Kayte is still sleeping, but she'll know to come downstairs when she wakes up. I figured you could go through On My Own, and then when Eddie gets here, I want to test the two mics together, so you guys can sing A Heart Full of Love since you two have performed that together." Speaking authoritatively, Jake walked quickly down the steps, Faithe in tow.  
  
"I'm not kissing him."  
  
"I'm not testing whether or not you can kiss him. I'm testing microphone."  
  
*****  
  
"All righty, you know it, you're good. Let's head back to the theatre. We can enter through the back. He's going to have her on stage with another song so she doesn't get a chance to see you there before you go on stage." The night had been a test of patience. Not because of Orlando's inability to sing, Eddie was actually quite surprised the man had a decent voice. Another plan had been brewing inside of his head...  
  
*****  
  
Well gee Jake, stick your poor heart broken sister on the stage. She only walked in on the love of her life kissing an old flame, and now you want her to sing a song about a girl who's in love with a man she can never have.  
  
Hearing the familiar introduction to the song, Faithe cleared her throat. Tears had already started forming in her eyes as she thought about how closely she could relate to the words that were coming out of her mouth. The only thing Faithe had been singing the past couple days had been lullabies, and her voice had been soft and low. Now, as she stood in an empty theatre, a microphone clipped on her shirt singing a rather powerful vocal song, her voice was much stronger. Loud and powerful, but still beautiful, despite the tears that were now cascading down her cheeks. How much she wanted the song to end...  
  
The genuineness of Eddie's smile was something slightly unnerving to Orlando, only because he hadn't ever seen the good side of the man before. Then again, he thought, it was always possible that he had misjudged him originally. Gears in his mind whirring, he resolved to forget about Eddie's seeming split-personality disorder and just go with him. Lifting a hand, he waved the man off and turned his attention to Jake.  
  
Shaking Jake's hand, Orlando offered a nervous sort of smile. If he had been studying something he actually knew with Eddie, like painting or something, it would have been entirely different. Yet, he wasn't. Singing, and music in general, had never been something that intrigued Orlando the same way as Astronomy or visual art. Now, he was volunteering to be put in a room alone with a split-personality scumbag/nice-guy who was going to be teaching him how to sing a love duet in order to win back the girl that both of them loved. Something about this just doesn't seem right...  
  
Shrugging it off, he nodded in response to Jake's latter comment.  
  
"I know," he replied with a half-hearted grin, "Nothing it going to fix it entirely...  
  
"Thanks, though, for..." For what? For letting me sing a song? That sounded too stupid, even in Orlando's barely awake mind "Everything," he finished. Nodding once more in gratitude, he shut his eyes and apparated back to the hotel.  
  
All through the "rehearsal" poor Orlando remained completely nervous, and, as a result of that, his voice remained buried in his throat. True, he had a reasonably nice voice, but when he sang with it in his throat, its tone was rather hidden. Still, he didn't sound completely horrible, and whatever Eddie's comments were didn't seem to affect him too much- emotionally or vocally. It was as though his voice was just going to be how it was- hazy and quieted. What the man really needed to do was to just lay his emotions out there and put them into the song, but, as aforementioned, he hadn't the experience nor innate knowledge to do so. As he went through the words and repeating melodies, he began to wonder exactly what he was doing. Going up and singing a song on a stage with quite a few random people- theatre people, who could all sing much, much better than he- lurking about in hopes of winning back Faithe? Insanity...  
  
Then again, if Jake had brought it up, he probably knew more about Faithe than Orlando in that regard, and he would trust the other man. After all, he was already in up to his neck in bad; if it didn't work out well, then what, truly, did he have to lose? His dignity, for one... Then again, the only people in that theatre whose opinions of him really mattered were Faithe, Jake and Eddie, and he'd already taken away his own dignity in their mind's with the events of the past night.  
  
Mentally sighing, he held out the final note for the seventeenth time and cast a wary glance at Eddie, hoping that they were done. ((Insert that "All righty, you know it..." bit here)) Breathing a sigh of relief at his response, Orlando nodded, a small yawn escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes and popped backstage.  
  
Waiting for Eddie to appear next to him, or, at least, hoping he would, Orlando's ears picked up the beauitfully familiar voice of his Faithe. Craning his next, he nonchalantly crept into one of the stage legs and stood behind the bunched up masque curtain, leaning his ear in towards the gorgeous siren's song. Although he had only caught the last little bit, 'twas enough.  
  
I love him  
  
But everyday I'm learning  
  
All my life, I've only been pretending  
  
Without me, his world will go on turning  
  
A world that's full of happiness that I have never known  
  
As Faithe's gorgeous voice cresendoed to the held pitch, Orlando felt a the knife of remorse take another stab into his chest. True, the words weren't exact to their situation, but they were close enough to affect Orlando, and, by the looks of things, they were getting to Faithe as well.  
  
I love him  
  
I love him  
  
I love him  
  
But only on my own  
  
Then as the strong forte regressed to a soft, yet still emotionally strong pianisimo, Orlando felt another stab. This part fit. It was as like though Faithe's emotions were vivid as the forte part of the song, she would keep them inside her; though she loved him, she wouldn't let him see. Guilt. Remorse. Pain.  
  
((Hope you don't mind, but, seeing as I leave in less than 24 hours, and I wanna cover as much plot as possible, I'm just going to continue...))  
  
Seeing the tears falling down her cheeks, he had to fight back the urge to hold her in a tight embrace and wipe them off her face. He couldn't do that, and he knew it. But there was something he could do. Slowly taking a step out on the stage, quietly though, as to not attract Faithe's attention, he nodded to whomever it was that was in charge of the music.  
  
As the four bars of intro flew by, Orlando blocked everything else out, save his Faithe and the song. Barely on stage, he took a few more steps towards the downstage, not quite enough to put him next to Faithe, though; he wanted to stand behind her. Oddly enough, he was no longer nervous; instead, fueled with emotion from watching Faithe sing, he was almost ready to do this. With a deep breath, he opened his mouth to sing.  
  
"A heart full of love..."  
  
His voice had opened up, and, rather than keeping his baritone ((yeah, yeah, Marius is a tenor... dommage :oP)) voice inside his throat, rang out through the theatre. Surprisingly, the man sounded as though he just might have belonged there. Perhaps he was a chorus guy, whose voice no one had ever heard on an individual level before. Then again, the sorrow in just those three quick 3/4 measures and the emotion that saturated them wasn't exactly characteristic of a chorus member.  
  
"A heart full of song..."  
  
The man's strong voice swelled over the held pitches, echoed throughout the hall as his eyes wandered over to Faithe.  
  
"I'm doing everything all wrong. Oh, God, for shame..."  
  
It was clear that those particular lyrics hit close to home for Orlando as his voice faltered slightly, almost speaking the words with inflected frustration rather than singing them. Not to mention the fact that he split them oddly, pairing the exclamation with the preceeding phrase rather than allowing it to reflect Marius' regret for not knowing Cosette's name.  
  
"I do not even know your name, dear Mademoiselle..."  
  
Those lyrics lost the emotion slightly, as there was nothing in Orlando's mind to back them up with, yet the word "Mademoiselle" made up for it as he somehow managed to sing it with a perfect French accent.  
  
((I don't like the original version here, so I'm using London's lyrics. It seems to fit better...))  
  
"I am lost in your spell..."  
  
Gradually decrescendoing over the last word, he glanced over at Faithe, trying to meet her gaze. What was she thinking? Was she going to sing? Would she just run off-stage? Would she think he was Eddie? Now that he had a measure or so to think, all these questions ran amuck through his mind. Silently raising his eyebrows in a remorseful, apologetic, sympathetic look, in case she did glance over at him.  
  
Landing a few from Orlando, Eddie peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Faithe. It had been so long since he'd heard her sing like that, and he would admit, her voice was one of the things he loved most about her. Seeing her up there crying killed him, but he knew there was nothing he could do, and it wasn't his place. Turning back to Orlando as she finished the song, he handed him a microphone. Setting him up with the small black piece of technology on his shirt, and an earpiece in his left ear, he sighed.  
  
"Now, at the end of the song, Jake will kill both of the mics. Not only for your privacy, but also because if he doesn't, the entire building is going to be filled with an amazingly painful high pitched noise that nobody will appreciate." Raising his eyebrows, he took a deep breath and exhaled it. He was so pumped with coffee right now that the caffeine was causing his body to shake, and he was having a hard time standing still. "Right, well good luck. I'm going up front with Jake. We'll both be leaving after your final note. Don't be afraid to get close to her..."  
  
A few minutes later, Eddie found himself standing next to Jake. Crossing his arms, he took another deep breath, his eyes on Faithe.  
  
"How did he do?" Jake asked without his gaze flickering from Faithe.  
  
"He did all right. There's potential, he's just hiding it." Shrugging, he looked down at the equipment in front of the two. Looking back up, he saw Orlando walk out onto the stage.  
  
Faithe had been facing the opposite direction from where Orlando entered the stage. There were certain idioms that she still found herself doing when she ran through songs from when she had performed them on stage in front of an audience. Reaching up, she ran her hands over her cheeks, brushing away the tears. Why she did this was beyond her because they were quickly replaced by more tears.  
  
Hearing the first word, her heart stopped beating, so it felt like it anyways. That's not Eddie... Turning around, there was a look of fear in her eyes as Orlando's figure stood in front of her. Backing up, her head starting shaking slowly.  
  
"Izzy, you know that if you don't make it through this song, you aren't leaving the stage until you do." Her brother's voice sounded inside her ear as he spoke to her through the earpiece. Knowing he was right, Faithe fought every urge in her body to run away. Or at least try to...  
  
Trying to will herself to stop crying, but not having any luck, her eyes fell to the ground beside her. For the first time in her life, she felt frozen, unable to think clearly. Unaware, she hadn't even realized she had started singing until she heard her own voicer echoed throughout the empty auditorium.  
  
A heart full of love  
  
Inside her head she was currently plotting the demise of one Jacob Cunningham and one Edward Polazzo. She had tried so hard to hide her emotions from Orlando, but she had been crying for so long, it was impossible for her to stop. Her voice had come out somewhat choked, causing her to wince at the sound.  
  
No fear, no regret.  
  
No, she didn't feel regret. Fear, on the other hand, was plainly visible in her eyes. She loved him so much, but she felt so betrayed. He was justified though... She had been telling herself that all night, and she believed it. Too bad the phrase she had been repeating silently didn't help the pain to ease at all. She had felt unworthy of him in the beginning, and his actions had simply proved her theory. She could never make him as happy as he deserved, and Faithe felt she could cope with that...in time.  
  
Hearing that beautiful voice, Orlando's heart skipped a beat. At first, when he had seen that look of utmost fear and other miscellaneous emotions flood the young woman's eyes, Orlando was sure it was all over- that she was just going to calmly walk off the stage. Knowing that Jake had had to have had something to do with her staying, he made a mental note to thank the man immensely somehow later, after all hell had blown over.  
  
As tears remained streaming down the girl's face and her eyes darted down- boring into the ground, or so it seemed- Orlando had to, once more, fight the urge to go over and physically comfort her. It was too soon, he knew, and if he tried to, it wouldn't work. She would push him away, and that would only worsen the delicate situation the two of them were in.  
  
"A heart full of love..."  
  
Please see how sorry I am... Thoughts flooded Orlando's mind as voice reflected his inner emotions. Regret topped off the list, ironically countering the previous "Cosette" line Faithe had just sung. Honestly, the man didn't know how to begin to make it up to Faithe. He had worked so hard to gain her trust, which wasn't an easy thing for anyone to earn, and then, almost sardonically, betrayed it.  
  
"A heart full of you..."  
  
The lyrics lended themselves so well to the point the man was trying to make- to the confession he was endeavoring to make to her. Why wasn't just plain, simple love ever enough? There were always outside forces and other emotions involved. Why couldn't he just tell her that he loved her, have her say the same, and then be done with it? Why all the complications?  
  
'Because,' he answered himself, 'you screwed up...'  
  
With a silent sigh, he glanced over, hoping that Faithe had sung along on that last line, then continued.  
  
"I saw you waiting, and I knew..."  
  
Faithe was waiting alright...for an absolution that would- seemingly- never come. The further he got through the song, the more Orlando seemed to think that whatever he had had with Faithe was gone. She was hurt, and he couldn't exactly blame her. But, in the minute or two they had been onstage together, her tears hadn't seemed to be ending, and there hadn't been any sign of her pain relenting either. Closing his eyes for a moment, he silently hoped for some sort of sign that she didn't want to never speak to him again. Not that he really expected her to wrap her arms around him or anything; no, Orlando did have a bit of realism in his idealistic mind. Maybe just a soft, pleasant glance...  
  
"A heart full of you..."  
  
Her voice was becoming stronger, which, she found, often happened when she sang the truth. She didn't know how much longer she could handle this. It was getting harder and harder for her to breath. Biting her bottom lip, she glanced up at him for a moment, a very short moment. Though she was hurt beyond belief, she still loved him more than anything, and no matter how many emotions were running through her, that love was still evident in her eyes. What was he doing here? Why wasn't he with Demeter?  
  
Sighing, Jake picked up the tiny mic that fed into Orlando's earpiece, "Do something. She's unsure of everything going on, she won't make any move until you do..." Sitting the mic down and flipping the switch off he sighed, "Assuming she does." Eddie was biting his lip in an attempt not to smile. Yes, he hated seeing Faithe like this, but the more he crashed and burned, the more he was pushing Faithe towards him, Eddie Polazzo.  
  
"Waiting for you..."  
  
Inside of her, the thing she had been longing for the most to come walking back through her door was standing in front of her. However, she felt...intimidated? Scared? Hurt was a definate. Feeling a small bead of sweat slip into her open cut, her face winced. Reaching up, she ran her finger gingerly along the small wound. That certainly didn't tickle... Lifting her head slightly to prevent anything of the sort happening in the future, she closed her eyes for a moment, allowing two more tears to slip down her cheeks.  
  
Jake's words rang through Orlando's mind. Why was he hearing Jake's voice? It took Orlando a moment, but then he realized that Jake's voice wasn't a hallucination- it was coming from the earpiece Eddie had put on him before he went out. Well, that was nice... He was going completely crazy with nerves.  
  
Now that he had figured that out, though, there was still that little matter of the meaning of Jake's words. And what, exactly, am I suppsoed to do? Orlando wanted to ask, but he knew that his words would simply carry out into the audience and to Faithe rather than just to Jake's ear as his had done for him.  
  
He really wanted to walk over and take Faithe in his arms, hold her close to him and tell her how sorry he was and how much he loved her, but the song wasn't over... not yet, at least.  
  
The man was a complete nervous wreck in spite of the fact that he was standing within three feet of the person who knew more about him than any other living or nonliving being in the entire world. He had been comfortable enough with her to tell her absolutely everything, from just making dumb Orlando-y comments, to recounting his tragic abusive past... Now, he couldn't even make himself touch her arm.  
  
Jake was right, though... yet again. It would have to be him to make the first move, yet Orlando didn't want to. Not now, at least. Not in the middle of a song, not on a stage, and certainly not in front of all two people that sat in the audience. He felt somehow vulnerable. Of course, in that same regard, he knew Faithe felt more vulnerable than he.  
  
As he slowly took a few cautious steps in her direction, it was obvious that trepidation flooded his veins. He was heinously nervous. He didn't want to do this. What if she flinched and moved away? Not only would he feel the sting of rejection, but Eddie and Jake would see it too...  
  
But if he didn't do it, it wouldn't get done.  
  
Biting his lip and gnawing feverishly on his tongue, he hesitantly reached out a hand and gently, but very cautiously, cupped the far side of Faithe's face in it, slowly turning her face towards him.  
  
"At your feet..." he sang, almost quietly, yet still strong.  
  
His eyes were wide with emotion, silently begging her not to turn away.  
  
Blinded by her tears, she hadn't noticed him stepping towards her. She didn't know when it had started, but she suddent became very aware that she was shaking like a leaf. Feeling his hand on her cheek, her eyes closed as he turned her head, but she allowed his hand to lead her. Looking into his face, her eyes clouded with more tears. All she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and cry, but she knew it was impossible.  
  
"At your call..."  
  
Though the words made it out of her mouth, they just barely escaped her lips. Her voice cracked, but she knew she just needed to hold out, the song was almost over. Leaning her head slightly into his hand, she reached up, touching his hand lightly before dropping her arm back down. She was still unsure and scared about why he was here, and she couldn't let herself be pulled back into this if he was just here to tell her he was leaving her for Demeter.  
  
Picking up the microphone feeder, Eddie flipped the switch on to leave Orlando with a few words before he left. "Don't forget the kiss at the end, if you're brave enough. After your last words, the mics go off, and we're leaving."  
  
"And it isn't a dream/not a dream after all."  
  
Somehow she managed to pull her voice together for the last few lines. Hitting that high octave on the word 'all,' she moved her head back some so she wasn't singing abnormally loud in Orlando's face. So caught up with holding that note out, Faithe hadn't even noticed that the mics had been turned off as soon right before she cut off that note.  
  
Looking into Faithe's eyes, Orlando's blue ones were beginning to moisten. Her eyes were a gateway to her soul, and he could tell how hurt she was. Scared, too, but mostly hurt... Thankful that she hadn't moved away, he bit his lips together as she sang, then took one last breath to tide him over the last ending chord. At her touch, Orlando visibly relaxed, glad that things were at least seeming to go well.  
  
"And it isn't a dream," he sang, tilting his head to let his gaze melt into hers, "Not a dream after all..."  
  
Singing the last, deep note, his voice finally lived up to its potential, and it was amazing. Rich, smooth and strong, it resounated off the theatre walls, perfectly meshing with Faithe's high note.  
  
Eddie's voice echoed in his head: "if you're brave enough." No, it wasn't about bravery; it was about the moment. If it fit, then it would be done, but if she wasn't ready, then he would respect that. Maybe that's why Eddie hadn't ever been able to win Faithe over; he didn't understand her. A kiss couldn't just happen- it had to fit.  
  
But, for whatever reason, as the final chord died out, it did seem to fit. Gently turning her head back towards him, Orlando placed his other hand tenderly behind Faithe's neck and offered a single, short, sweet kiss. Pulling his head back, he wiped the tears from her face and bit his lip once more; it was all he could do to stop himself from crying as well. Letting his hands slide down to her back, he guided her into his chest, firmly embracing her.  
  
"I love you," he whispered into her ear, laying his head on her shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Faithe..."  
  
There were a million other things he wanted to tell her. How it had come about, Jake's advice, how worried he had been about her last night, that he didn't love Demeter at all anymore... But, caught up in the moment, he didn't want to waste his breath simply explaining everything to Faithe. He had gone a night without her in his arms, and it had been too much. Now, all he wanted to do was hold her.  
  
The sound of his voice moved her deeply as they harmonized the last pitch, their voices sounding as if they had been made for each other. Then again, Faithe had thought the two had been made for each other. Still shaking more than a rattlesnake's tail ((oh my gosh...I so live in the south!)), Faithe's eyes closed as she felt the familiar touch of his hand on her neck, her judgement died out as she felt his lips on hers.  
  
Feeling herself being pulling into him, she rested her head on his chest, her eyes shut tighter. She wanted everything to be back to the way it was this time yesterday morning. Everything perfect, everything in place. But as she stood there, the familiar scene of Orlando kissing Demeter played before her eyes like a video. A small cry escaped her lips as she pulled away from him as if she had just been burned.  
  
"Why are you here?" Her words came out through her tears, but it didn't sound like an accusation, just a mere question. Every bone in her body was aching to allow herself to fall into this man's arms. Ever since it had happened, Faithe had been wanting nothing more than to be with him, but she couldn't trust him. She loved him more than anything in this world, and would die for him in a heartbeat, but she couldn't trust him right now.  
  
She was petrified, and all of her fear shone in her brown eyes. The pain was there too, but now fear was beginning to overwhelm her and her shaking was becoming worse. Whether it was because of the situation, or because when she had fallen during the night she had hit her head worse than she'd originally thought, Faithe felt like she was about to be sick.  
  
((Note: Orlando's not saying this all at once, but I wanted you to have something to write while I'm gone, and he'd say all this eventually. So, please excuse the massive dialogue, but I didn't feel like balancing each sentence out with the paragraph of emotion. You're clever enough; you don't need to be told what he's thinking))  
  
As Faithe's head rested comfortably on his chest and she was once again hugged in his embrace, everything was perfect again. The world stopped; in that one single moment, Orlando felt comfortable again- completely at ease. His arms just wrapped around her body, not playing with her hair, or stroking her back, but simply being around her, holding her gently, yet firmly, against him. There wasn't a thing in the world he would have traded for that moment right there. But, just as all good things do, that moment had to end.  
  
Hearing her quiet cry, his arms loosened around her and his head cocked itself, glancing at her with concern. What's wrong?' his face asked, but, after feeling her push away, the question was answered. Orlando had known that things couldn't just fall back into place like that, although he had hoped that, somehow, they just would- just this once.  
  
Allowing her to pull away from him, he pursed his lips together, feeling his face burn with a shameful blush. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what he had just done, but rather the haunting memory of himself kissing Demeter that brought the somber look to the man's face. The memory of Faithe's face when she had seen them wasn't one that would vanish quickly, if ever.  
  
At her question, Orlando felt himself grow weak in the knees for more than one reason. First, her voice- the weakness in it, the way she shook when she spoke, and, more than anything, the hurt it carried in the undercurrent- killed him. Then the words themselves; it was as though she didn't know. And, Orlando couldn't blame her for not trusting him. He had just betrayed her totally and completely; why should she trust him? The answer was simple: she shouldn't. And, though he knew that, it didn't help ease the pain that not having her trust brought him. He felt alone, rejected, and, most of all, regretful.  
  
Faithe was second-guessing him. She didn't know that he was here to make it up to her, and, even if she wanted to think that, Orlando knew that thoughts of Demeter must have been plaguing the poor young woman's mind. In fact, she was probably wondering if he'd come back just to tell her that they were over. So very far from the truth that was, though.  
  
He was there because she was; wherever she would go is where he would follow. The one night they had spent apart was enough of a hell to last his entire life. If he never went one more day without Faithe, he would die an elated man. He had come to make reparations- to try and make her see that she was the one he wanted, loved and cared more about than anything in the world.  
  
"Because you are," he answered quietly, voice cracking slightly as he spoke.  
  
Looking into her fearful eyes, his heart ached to calm her- to make everything in her world better again, but that wasn't something that he could just do with a wave of his wand. She was shaking more, just then, due to the fear, Orlando presumed. Hesitantly, the man reached out his hands, placing them on either side of Faithe's shoulder. Fighting the urge to pull her back into him, he just stood like that for a moment, trying to comfort the girl as best he could.  
  
How could he tell her everything he wanted to? Orlando didn't even know where to begin, or what to say. Swallowing, he tilted his head downward, looking into Faithe's eyes, hoping she could see his sincerity.  
  
"I love you, Faithe," he repeated quietly, "And I know I screwed up last night, and I'm sorry for hurting you. Please believe me when I say that I would do anything to take away that pain I caused you. I wish I could tell you that I'm sorry for kissing Demeter, but that would be lying, and I won't lie to you, ma Foi- I can't- I'm not sorry for doing that, because that was the only way for me to finally completely end whatever lingering fantasies were left in my mind.  
  
"Do you remember the first morning we had together? The one after I had finally gotten you back on a broomstick? You asked me if I missed Dem, and I told you that I did, but that the part of her I missed was long gone. When I saw her last night, though, it didn't seem like that, and, in that moment, it was like I was living in the past, but I wasn't. She was something I'd spent a year of my life dwelling on, and longing to return to me, and then, in that moment, she did- but it wasn't how I had been playing it in my mind for so long. Now I know that I'm never going to love her again. She'd changed, and I'd changed; we couldn't just go back to what we had had before. And, in that moment, I realized that it was never going to be the same.  
  
"And, you know what, Faithe? I'm glad that it can't be like that, and I don't mind a single bit, because what you and I have had this weekend- and since that night- has been so much better than anything I could have ever imagined having with her. She was never someone that I could trust like I can trust you- she never even had a clue about my relationship with my parents, or the shark bite on my leg. I never felt like I could tell her that sort of thing. Heck, even when she finally saw the scar on my thigh, she didn't even seem to care the slightest bit.  
  
"But, Faithe," he said, lifting one of his hands up to gently caress her face, "you care. And, more than that, you're absolutely amazing. You're beautiful, completely brilliant, passionate, considerate, funny, adorable, and positively perfect. Not having you in my arms last night was torture, because I knew that I had pushed you away- I'd betrayed you. And then, when Jake told me that he didn't know where you were at three in the morning, I only felt worse, because, Faithe, if something had happened to you, I wouldn't have ever forgiven myself."  
  
There was still so much more Orlando knew he had wanted to say, but for some reason he could no longer remember any of it. He was lost in a sea of emotions- incapable of racking his brain for the last lingering details of everything he wanted her to know.  
  
"And I can't forgive myself for what I did to you, Faithe. not now, and probably not ever," he continued, "You didn't deserve this. I really am just so incredibly sorry."  
  
He let his hand slip from her face, and the other one slip down her arm from her shoulder. Absentmindedly, he glanced towards the ground, putting his hands in his pockets.  
  
"How can I ever get you to trust me again?" he whispered, more of a thought aloud than an actual question, although he wouldn't have completely minded an answer.  
  
Pulling away from Orlando's embrace was, she found, the hardest thing she had ever had to do. For a mere moment, Faithe had felt that elation she held with Orlando. Hearing him say those three beautiful words, she closed her eyes, two small tears fell down her wet cheeks, leaving more of a watery stream. She wanted to run away, scream at him to stop. Faithe never thought there be a day where hearing somebody say they love her would hurt her so much. Then again, she never thought there would be a day when somebody would tell her that they love her.  
  
Opening her eyes, she searched the curtain behind him before finally settling on his face. Shaking her head slowly, she finally met his eyes, "Orlando, if there were 'lingering fantasies' about her in your mind, then I'm not enough for you; I obviously can't fulfill you like she did." There was no bitterness to her tone, but there was a pang of guilt I in the inflection of her voice. She felt guilty that she couldn't be enough for him. Then again, she had never been enough for anybody. Everybody has these expectations for her, her parents in particular, but she could never measure up.  
  
quote:  
  
She'd changed, and I'd changed; we couldn't just go back to what we had had before. And, in that moment, I realized that it was never going to be the same.  
  
"What if she hadn't changed Orlando? What if she was the same person that you had fallen in love with when the two of you were younger? Would you still be here or would you be with her?" For the first time since everything had happened her words came out sounding bitter. Wincing at the sound of her own voice, Faithe buried her face in her hands.This wasn't her. She wasn't bitter, she was hurt and upset. Looking back up at him, there was an apologetic expression all over her face, "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have come out like that."  
  
quote:  
  
I don't mind a single bit  
  
Her head shot up at those six words, "You don't mind?" She hadn't even heard the rest of that sentence before cutting him off. There was an incredulous expression on her face as she shook her head, that look of utmost pain in her eyes. "Well, that's a comforting thought Orlando. It's nice to know that the man I've been having a relationship with for the last seven months doesn't mind being with me." Deep down, Faithe knew that wasn't what he meant, she was being overemotional and taking everything to heart. Every word that came from his mouth tore her to pieces. Listening to his words of trust, her eyes fell to the ground. Bitter thoughts clouded her mind, and she was ashamed of every single one of them.  
  
Feeling his hand on her cheek, her eyes closed and tilted instinctively towards the warmth that radiated from his touch. Listening to his words, tears continued to cascade down her cheeks unceasingly. Her eyes opened in a look of surprise when he mentioned talking to Jake at 3 in the morning. She reached up absentmindedly and ran her finger across the cut above her eyebrow. Listening to his final words, her brown eyes stared at the stage to her left. As his hand fell down, she forced herself to turn her eyes on him.  
  
She knew he was hurting because of all this as well. As much as she just wanted to close the distance between the two, she knew better. Rubbing her temples tiredly, Faithe closed her eyes deep in thought.  
  
"I don't know Orlando." The paleness of her complexion, the redness of her eyes, and the tired resolution in her voice all showed how exhausted she was. "I don't think there is anything you can do." Looking at him, she reached out and took his hand in hers, "I love you more than anything, but right now, I don't feel like I can trust you." Those had to be the most painful words Isabelle Faithe Cunningham had ever had to say in her entire life, and it was proven by how the words were choke with emotion. "I know things will fall back into place with us, if they're meant to be. I just..." Sighing, she let go of his hand and began taking the mic and earpiece off of her.  
  
"I don't know what to do..." There was a desperation in her voice, but that was nothing compared to the lost expression that radiated from her eyes. Setting the small bundle of wire and pieces on the stage, she checked her watch. "Will you please make sure that Jake and Eddie get those back?" Somehow she managed to bring her eyes to his, but she couldn't hold her gaze to him, her eyes immediately overfilling with tears.  
  
"I have to go..." Speaking almost inaudibly, Faithe tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear. "I have an appointment in an hour."  
  
For one single moment, it seemed like it was all going to be alright. But, just as before, that moment of lingering hope faded as Faithe pulled herself away from him and began to speak. Each word cut into him with as much real pain as if she had been inscribing those words into his heart with a sort of magic knife. Her eyes, whose typical glow was now tainted with pain, seemed to stare right into him as her words, which might have sounded bitter had Orlando not seen the truth in them, accompanied the glare. It was funny how, in the whole verbose little speech he had just made, Faithe nitpicked his sincere words apart and seemed to twist them for mordant pleasure, but, knowing that wasn't Faithe's nature, Orlando tried to remind himself that any disparagement she showed was only a materialization of hurt.  
  
"Look, Faithe," he began, knowing he had made a mistake but refusing to admit it by letting a not derisive, but not quite kind, tone accompany his words, "I know you've never been in a serious relationship before, so you probably won't be able to completely understand this, but when you care that deeply about someone, their memory never completely dies. Now, 'lingering fantasies' probably wasn't the best word choice, so I'm sorry for misleading you on that, but you have to understand that my feelings for Demeter don't manifest themselves into fantasies.  
  
"You already know the story: before I met you, this woman [I]plagued[/I] almost my entire existence; I couldn't get her out of my head. I had loved her more than I thought possible, and getting used to life without that feeling was hard; I had gotten hurt, okay? You know that, Faithe, but maybe you can't understand what it's like trying to get over a breakup whose cause and whose logistics still bewilder you even months after it's happened. It's like waking up one morning and having the sun not appear- you don't have a clue how it happened, but you're forced to succumb to the consequences nevertheless. I don't blame you for not getting it, because you've never experienced something even close, and I hope you never have to, but just try to understand. ((If someone ever said this to me, I think I'd give 'em one good glare and then slam the door in their face))  
  
Shaking his head, the man sighed. [I]Well, that was a nice verbose little psychoanalysis of the human mind.[/I]  
  
"You're right about the not fulfilling me like she did part, Faithe," he continued, glancing down for a moment before meeting her gaze again, "You complete me more than Dem ever could. Never feel like I care about her more than you, Faithe. Even if Dem hadn't changed, I have. I don't love her anymore, Faithe; it's [I]you[/I] whom I love, whom I adore, and you whom I desire with every atom of my being."  
  
Every word Orlando spoke held complete sincerity in it, though, mentally, he was slightly fumbling. Demeter's earlier words were echoing through his mind. What if she was right? What if he had already blown his chance with Faithe? What if Faithe just couldn't understand their past? Though the woman's words had been spoken out of resentful whim, the poor man was so distraught and frustrated by his inability to convey his remorse to Faithe that, crazy as they were, Demeter's words were beginning to hold a certain about of truth. When he had kissed her, the past had revived itself; nothing had changed. And yet, here Orlando was, standing before Faithe trying to convince both her and himself that Demi and he had changed too much for it to work between them. Proved by what evidence was this claim? None. Then why were the words coming through his lips so genuinely? Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Orlando tried to clear his mind of such vile thoughts. He loved Faithe, not Demeter.  
  
"And I'd still be here with you," he declared with unwavering conviction.  
  
That was true; even if the circumstances had been altered in Demeter's favor, Orlando still would have been there with Faithe. He wouldn't ever hurt Faithe over this; he felt some innate need to protect the girl from the pain rejection would most certainly bring her at all costs- even if it mean suppressing his own desire for Demeter; Faithe's agony was too high a price to pay for Demeter. if that was even who he wanted. But then, he wondered, if he wanted Demeter, why did he feel such a longing for Faithe's touch? Surely he couldn't love two women simultaneously. As treacherous as the man's inner conflict was, it didn't show even the slightest bit in his voice or mien. Shaking his head at her apology, he bit his lip as if to say that he had indeed deserved such a remark, although he knew it wasn't meant that way.  
  
[I]"You don't mind?"[/I]  
  
Faithe's words caught him off guard and Orlando's head shot up, snapping almost violently to face hers. Like her, he was allowing his hurt and his pain to corrupt his thoughts, turning them from logic into passionate, emotionally-fueled spiteful remarks, which was much more characteristic of Demeter than Orlando.  
  
"Isn't it just a little audacious of you to pick out a few poorly-chosen phrases and words from a completely earnest apology and manipulate them into something you know they're not just for the purpose of defending yourself? I'm not being the least bit pretentious here, Faithe. Nothing I'm saying was rehearsed; I came here to tell you what happened and what I'm feeling. I'm sorry if I can't translate every emotion perfectly into words; if I'd had thought that's what you wanted, maybe I'd have written up a nice little letter and owled it to you."  
  
For as enthused as the emotions behind the words were, Orlando kept his voice remarkably calm and still allowed it to hold some sincerity. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that every even slightly scathing comment he made would have to be apologized for later, but, in the heat of the argument- their first fight ever- Orlando couldn't help but let his words get away from him. Biting his lip to prevent another sarcastic remark- again, something that was highly uncharacteristic of him- from escaping, he gnawed on his tongue, unable to explain his erratic behavior.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," he whispered quietly, looking down at the floor.  
  
"Seven months, two weeks and six days," he corrected her a moment later, not at all condescendingly, as his eyes still stared vacantly at the ground.  
  
"Those two-hundred and thirty-seven days have been the most amazing days of my life, Faithe. Even though I haven't been able to be around you for every one of them, just the feeling I got when I'd think of the next time I'd see you, or hear you voice. it was enough."  
  
His voice was more tranquil, reserved, and even more genuine than before, as it commonly was when he was being absolutely honest. Thankful as her head pressed against his hand softly, his fingers moved gently to wipe away the falling tears, gently caressing her cheeks and tenderly running along the outline of her eyes before setting his hands in his pockets.  
  
Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the velvety box in his pocket, as Faithe's soft words confirmed the thoughts in his mind. Trust wasn't something that could be awarded or granted easily; it took time and effort to build it up, and he would just have to wait that building period out. It was killing him though; seeing Faithe in such distress and being so completely powerless to stop her from hurting. Again, Demeter's words rang through his ears, telling him that he had "already blown it" with Faithe. Crippled by frustration, he was beginning to doubt himself again, and the spiteful remark began to ring true to his mind.  
  
As she reached for his hand, Orlando almost didn't let go of the box enclosed in his fingers, partially due to absentmindedness and partially because his subconscious thought it better if he didn't. Yet, at the last moment before his hand escaped the pocket, the box fell, and no one was the wiser.  
  
Her words hurt him, but he retained a somewhat strong look about himself. She had trusted him enough the first night they had spent alone together to allow him to help her face a lifelong fear yet now, after nearly eight months together, she didn't trust him a bit. It was painful and dishonorable to know such a thing, and even more shameful that he didn't know how to earn it back.  
  
Managing a small nod at her request, Orlando removed his electronics as well, folding the cords meticulously and taking Faithe's equipment in his hand as well.  
  
"I'm sorry, Faithe. I do love you, you know that, don't you?"  
  
Her last words caught him off guard. She hadn't mentioned going anywhere Sunday morning before.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked, taking a step up to be next to her.  
  
Her eyes narrowed as he went his little rampage, her tears still overflowing. "I don't know what it's like? Because I haven't been in a romantic relationship, I don't know what it's like to have somebody I love ripped from my life? Or better yet, thrown from their lives? Gah..Orlando!" She shook her head with an incredulous expression on her face. "I may not have had a boyfriend who devastated my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything. I was a 13 year old helping my 15 year old brother raise his daughter because his girlfriend took off. Don't you think I felt the burdens of that?" Stopping herself, she averted her gaze and took a deep breath, realizing that she was almost yelling. "No, I guess I'm just some naive student."  
  
Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head. Her tears were falling steadier and she was doing everything within her power to fall down and let her emotions run free. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at him with red eyes. quote:  
And I'd still be here with you...  
  
  
She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering as he spoke. Her eyes searched his face, knowing that he was speaking from his heart and that his words were truthful. She had been close to throwing her arms around him when he dished out a reprimand. Feeling herself shrink back, her eyes fell to the ground, feeling ashamed because she knew he was right.  
  
Hearing him apologize, she shook her head, "Yes you did." Looking up and meeting his gaze, she shifted uncomfortable, "But I deserved it." He was completely right, and she knew why she was doing it. She was making an attempt to hide behind her pain with anger, but she couldn't be angry at him.  
  
Closing her eyes, when she heard him say that he loves her, she nodded. Opening them, a fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks, "I love you too." Her voice came out choked with emotion, and almost inaudible. Silently cursing her quivering lip, her eyes fell to the floor once more, "More than anything. I just...I need some time."  
  
Caught off guard that he had stepped up next to her, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have a meeting."  
  
Silence ensued during Faithe's near-rampage, and Orlando's eyes fell to the ground. Yeah, that had probably been another bad thing to say... Shaking his head, he reached out a hand and ran it along her arm, somewhat comfortingly.  
  
"You're right, I'm sorry."  
  
And that was that... he didn't speak another word about it. Although he might have had some of the innate male jerk traits, he did know when to apologize for being wrong.  
  
He could see that she had been about to hug him, but, by the time he realized it, he was already well underway with his own rampage. Something about Faithe's eyes slinking to the ground gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction, for which he immediately scolded himself. Taking pride in hurting others wasn't something he did, and he didn't like the way it made him.  
  
Sighing at her reply, he shrugged slightly.  
  
"You're right, I did, but, even if you did deserve it, I've caused you enough pain for a lifetime, and I haven't the right to inflict anymore grief upon you, Faithe..."  
  
Nodding at her reply, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as though it would be the last time he ever would feel her body within his embrace.  
  
"I understand," he replied solemnly, reluctantly pulling away from her. "I can wait."  
  
"What type of meeting?" he inquired, catching her gently by the arm and turning her towards himself.  
  
As soon as he apologized, there was a small twinge of triumph that tugged at her, but she immediately brushed it away. No matter how much she was hurting right now, she did love him, and refused to act on anything she would later regret.  
  
Hearing him apologize once more, she reached up and laid her hand over his lips gently, making a silent motion to silence him. Shaking her head, she bit her bottom lip, "Orlando, stop. Please stop apologizing. It's done and over with." Speaking softly, her tears had finally stopped cascading down her cheeks, but her eyes were still watery.  
  
Feeling his arms embrace her once again, Faithe's eyes closed as her head rested against his chest. A lone tear slipped down her cheek as she buried her face in his chest, only to be pulled away. Wiping her face with her hands, she turned to walk towards the steps again.  
  
Looking at him curiously as he took her arm, she faced him. Shaking her head, she swallowed harshly, "It's not important. I need to go take a shower." Pulling her arm from him gently, she turned and walked down the stairs by the stage. Turning into the hallway, she quickly hopped up the stairs to the apartment, ready for a shower.  
  
At the feeling of her skin upon his lips, Orlando immediately silenced himself, not because she was asking him to, bu because he longed to feel her touch. Nodding, he did oblige her request, though, reaching both hands up in silence to wipe away the remaining water marks upon her cheeks. He knew the pain that he himself was feeling, and that which Faithe must have been bearing had to be a hundred times greater...  
  
As she laid her head upon his chest, Orlando felt a sense of calm overcome come. It was, however, as most moments are, fleeting. Running his hands up and down her back slowly, he kissed her head as he backed off relunctantly.  
  
Trying to search her face, Orlando's divination talents failed him. He hadn't a clue what she was trying to hide. If it really wasn't important, she'd have just come right out and said what it was. Sighing, he gave her a somewhat worried look, but resigned to follow her.  
  
"If you want, I'll meet you back at the hotel around eight tonight to go back to Rosencrantz... if you're not there though, I'll understand..." he called after her.  
  
Sighing, he apparated himself back to the hotel. 


	7. An Unexpected Twist

Before the last note had finished sounding out, the entire audience was on their feet clapping. The show had gone magnificently, and Faithe had felt so much pride when Kaytlin had performed her solo. As the little girl's strong voice rang out through the auditorium, Faithe's brown eyes had glazed over with tears. Then again, Faithe had been shedding a lot of tears lately.  
  
Wearing a sleek black dress that fit her form, Faithe sat back down until the audience had cleared out. Once the theatre was empty, she made her way up on stage and walked to the back, looking for Jake and Kaytlin. A few people nodded a greeting to her, which she returned politely but completely detached.  
  
"Aunt Belle!" An ecstatic Kaytlin ran towards her, wrapping her arms around Faithe's legs. Smiling down at Kaytlin, she reached down and lifted the girl into her arms. She had changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but her stage make-up was still on her face. Hoisting her onto her left hip, Faithe reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of Kayte's face.  
  
"You did wonderful sweetie!" Tweaking Kayte's nose, Faithe smiled as the little girl squealed with delight at her praise.  
  
Jake came walking up, looking slightly frazzled, but he had the same ecstatic expression on his face as his daughter. Wrapping his arms around Faithe, he gave her a big hug, sandwiching Kaytlin in between the two.  
  
"Kaytlin, why don't you go grab your bag from your dressing room?" Wriggling down from Faithe's arms, Kayte did exactly as her father told her. Once she was out of sight, Jake turned back to Faithe.  
  
"How are you doing?" Lowering his voice, he looked at his sister with a look of concern. He hadn't really spoken to her since last weekend, and she hadn't been in great shape then.  
  
"I'm...alive." Sighing as she spoke, Faithe's eyes fell to the ground, her smile fading. "I've been occupying myself by training a lot. I'm starting to really get back in shape. Getting ready for this summer..." Which was true. How she had managed to scrape through this past week was beyond her. Time seemed to move on so slowly, particularly during Astronomy. She had managed to avoid talking to Orlando, though it hadn't been easy. Instead of getting to class early, she showed up minutes before the start of class, and was one of the first ones out of the door at the end. Every night she had fought the urge to go rap on his door, and instead laid awake all night long.  
  
"I can tell. You've lost weight." His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he noticed that she did seem thinner. Shrugging, Faithe looked around the backstage simply to avoid his stare. Clearing his throat, Jake's own eyes fell the ground. "Bridget was here tonight. She's been calling me all week about Kaytlin."  
  
Before Faithe could make an outrage about the matter, Kayte herself had bounded back up to the two. Smiling halfheartedly at the goofy grin on her niece's face, Faithe placed her hand on top of the girl's head.  
  
"Why don't we go upstairs and start getting you read for bed while your dad finishes up here?" Looking down at her, she smiled as the girl nodded vigorously. Turning her eyes towards Jake, she nodded, "We'll see you in a little bit."  
  
*****  
  
Twenty minutes later, Kaytlin was freshly bathed and clad in her pajamas. Faithe had been staring out at the city from the window. She had taken her heels off, and had pulled her hair down from the French Twist as she sat in the window bench. Kaytlin came bounding down the hallway, pouncing on Faithe's lap, wrinkling the dress as she did so.  
  
"Will you read me a story before I go to bed?" Poking out her bottom lip, Kayte made her bottom lip quiver in a pouty face. Laughing, Faithe pulled the girl into her arms, hugging her tightly.  
  
"Don't try to pull that on me; I'm the one who taught you that." Grinning, she shook her head, "Yes, I'll read you a story. Go grab a book." Squealing with delight, Kayte took off for her room, leaving Faithe smiling as she shook her head. I wish I had that much energy...  
  
Five minutes passed and there was no sound from Kayte, nor had she come back. "You all right back there?" Calling to her, Faithe furrowed her eyebrows slightly, but there was a small smile on her lips. Kayte had been known to take forever and a day to perform the simplest task. However, her smile faded when she didn't hear anything back from the girl.  
  
Standing up, she made her way back to Kaytlin's room. Surprised when she found the room to be pitch black, she rapped on the door frame. "Kayte? Why do you have the lights off?" Reaching over on the wall, she flipped the switch on and squinted her eyes when the bright light flooded the room. Her entire body froze when she saw Bridget, her hand covering Kaytlin's mouth, and her wand in her other hand. Kaytlin's arms had been bound together, no doubt the work of Bridget's wand.  
  
Her eyes narrowing, Faithe made a move towards the two. The smirk on Bridget's face angered Faithe all the more, but she soon found the cause of the look of triumph. Her vision went black and a small cry escaped her eyes as something pounded the back of her head, causing her to fall forward on all fours. She didn't have time to turn around to see who had attacked her before she caught a foot to her side. Her arms and legs collapsed as she fell to the floor. Groaning, she rolled over as she heard Kayte's muffled scream.  
  
Had she the strength, she probably would have gasped at the person behind her, but she only closed her eyes as she rubbed her forehead. Eddie's malicious smile grew as he pulled out his wand and pointed it down at her. Looking at Bridget, he winked. "Go ahead and take her, I'll finish things up here."  
  
Hearing his words, Faithe's eyes shot open as she turned on her stomach. Not sure where she got the strength, she jumped up and made a lunge towards Bridget, "Leave her alone!" However, she didn't get very far until she felt Eddie's grip on her bicep, pulling her back. Slamming her against the wall, he let out a frustrated grunt, that malicious expression in his eyes.  
  
The more the squirmed, the more she paid for it.Tears stung her eyes as she looked horrified as Bridget disapparated with a frightened Kaytlin in tow. Eddie brought his face close to hers, a smirk back on his face. "I've been wanting to do this all week." Backhanding her again, he threw her down to the ground. By this time, she was too weak to move or fight back. Pointing his wand at Faithe, his eyes narrowed at her, "Crucio..." 


	8. Dos Llegan a Ser Uno

One week exactly. That's how long Kaytlin had been missing, and that's how long Faithe had been eating herself away with guilt. She'd missed class for three days, only catching school Thursday and Friday. Her brother had found her about fifteen minutes after Eddie left, and had immediately taken her to the hospital.  
  
She looked horrible. Her complexion was pale, her left eye was a deep blue and slightly swollen, and her wrist was wrapped in a bandage, and was slowly receding from being the size of a softball. Sighing as she stared out at the lake, Faithe leaned her head up against the window. Things would be easier to get through if she had spoken to Orlando in two weeks.  
  
Making a quick decision, she changed and crept quietly out of her room, not waking any of her dorm mates. Being as silent as she could, and keeping an eye out for another figure, she made her way through the hallways. Stopping in front of the door she knew to be Orlando's, her brown eyes darted around, double-checking she was alone. Pulling out her wand, she opened his lock, slid inside the room and shut the door quietly.  
  
It was after midnight, and as long as they were outside by one, life would be grand. Walking quietly to his bed, being careful in the darkness, she sat on the edge. Staring at him for a few silent moments, her heart ached for the two weeks they had spent apart. Reaching down, she laid her hand on the side of his face, "Orlando?"  
  
Speaking softly, she dropped her hand to his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Orlando...wake up."  
  
As Orlando Lorenz's body lie stationary in his bed, one might not have thought anything wrong with Rosencrantz's Astronomy professor... had they never seen him sleeping before, at least. Contrary to his typical warm- weather sleepwear, which was, as all Orlando fans know, a mere pair of navy blue cotton pants, this particular evening (like the last thirteen), he was clad in a thin, white tank-top and a pair of dark grey boxer shorts. The past two weeks' events had changed him, and not for the better.  
  
The stubble which so commonly gave his face a ruggedly attractive look hadn't been shaved in quite awhile, giving him an almost scruffy look, and his eyes were surrounded by dark bags, marking the fact that he hadn't gotten much sleep. Though his body would, eventually, night after night, fall asleep, the man's mind would never rest. It was always churning, thinking, primarily, of one thing in particular: Faithe.  
  
It had been two weeks since he'd betrayed her trust, and, consequently, two weeks since they'd last spoken, kissed or even touched without a severe amount of uncomfortableness between them. She wouldn't talk to him, and Orlando couldn't blame her at all. He wouldn't talk to himself either...  
  
The first week hadn't been so bad. The two had exchanged casual conversation, and Faithe had shown up to class every day, early, but much later than usual. The past week, however, she hadn't come Monday or Wednesday and, Friday, had finally shown up beaten, though he had seen her in such a state on Thursday as well, during meals. Upon seeing her, the man had nearly fallen apart, but, knowing what would happen if he took too personal an interest in her with such a crowd around, he had contained himself until after class on Friday, where his questions were returned with nothing but an "I have to go".  
  
What had happened to her, he knew not, and, consequently, had been plagued by all sorts of scenarios throughout the day of Thursday, and the night as well. Nightmares with mixed memories and mentally conjured tortured had enchanted his mind, making it so he could not sleep. This night, as well, he couldn't sleep. Especially not since receiving the owl he had from Jake, which contained an article written about Kaytlin's kidnapping.  
  
Now, his imagniation had too much to work off. Nearly driving himself insane with the possibilities, Orlando had retrieved every possible book about tracking people from the library's restricted section and laid them all out upon his bed at around ten o'clock that night. Reading by the light of a sort of globe lamp, which was a slender piece of paper with the constellations drawn out upon it with a small lamp in the center, he had spent nearly two hours pouring through them, before falling asleep with his head in a book. As he slept, more scenarios invaded his mind; some were feasible, others weren't, yet there was one chilling one that, although not possible, was absolutely terrifying to Orlando. The vision of his own father beating Faithe and Kaytlin as he himself lay crippled on the frigid stone floor of his childhood home powerless to save them, prompted his body to break out in a cold sweat.  
  
As these flashes contorted the man's mind, he failed to feel Faithe's hand as it gently stroked his face or to pay attention to the shift of the bed springs as she sat upon them. Yet, the touch of her hand on his shoulder, accompanied by the gentle shaking, did wake up, with a start, of course.  
  
Still panic-stricken, a cause of the nightmare, his brilliant blue eyes snapped open as his body shifted atop the pile of books turning to face Faithe. At first, he believed himself to still be dreaming, yet he could feel the sensation of her fingers upon his skin- something he had missed for a long time- and knew she was real. Taking great care not to apply pressure to any of her injuries, Orlando let out a joyful sigh at the sight of her, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he could without hurting her.  
  
He had waited for this moment for so long, yet the circumstances were anything but ideal. He knew by the Jake's letter as well as the battering upon Faithe's skin that she wasn't in his bedroom at night for any other reason than something bad. But, she had come to him...  
  
Sitting up, he cradled the young woman in his arms, planting a few light, feather-soft kisses upon her face and neck before gazing up into her eyes.  
  
"I'm here, Faithe," he whispered. "Talk to me..."  
  
Jumping slightly as he awoke with a jerk, Faithe's eyebrows came together with a worried expression over her face. Feeling his arms wrap around her, she felt her body relax for the first time in two weeks. Closing her eyes as she felt his warm lips upon her skin, she let out a shakey breath. This felt right; everything about it felt right. How did she live without him for two weeks?  
  
Meeting his gaze, she searched his face intently, unsure of what to do or say. Reaching up with her good hand, she laid her hand on his warm cheek, her eyes still holding a look of uncertainty. Resting her forehead against his, she closed her eyes, "I love you." Whispering as she spoke, she kept her hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth gently.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she sat back up. "Will you come with me?" Reaching down, she took his hand, a pleading expression on her face. "Please? There's something I want to show you."  
  
As Faithe's body relaxed into his own, the sensation of happiness that rippled through Orlando's body was unimaginable. The hell that he had gone through without Faithe for the past two weeks was all forgotten momentarily as her hand brushed against his face. Lifting his head slightly, his lips gently caressed her fingertips before allowing her to lay her forehead upon his.  
  
At her whispered confession, the man felt his eyes close in elation as a wave of relief seemed to crash through him. He knew that she hadn't completely forgiven him yet, but this was most certainly a start; he could feel how much she had missed him as well.  
  
"I love you, too, ma Foi," he replied, "Je te manque terriblement... I miss you terribly."  
  
Allowing her to sit back up, Orlando loosened his grasp around her waist but couldn't have made himself let go unless she herself had asked him to. Not even making her need to ask twice, he instantly agreeed to come with her. Quizzically searching her eyes for a sign of what it was that she so desperately needed to show him, Orlando detangled his fingers from hers for a moment, only re-entangling them once Faithe had been properly situated in his arms so that he could carry her.  
  
"I'll go with you to the ends of the earth, but you're not walking there," he replied quietly, "Tell me where we're going, and I'll apparate you there."  
  
A small sound escaped her lips as she felt his lips on her fingertips, and she closed her eyes as she welcomed the familiarity. Her stomach fluttered at the sound of his words, taking a small breath as she felt the caress of his voice. "I miss you too..." There was so much emotion in her voice, is a wonderment to herself that she didn't break down in tears right then and there.  
  
Wrapping one arm around his neck, she couldn't help the small smile that appeared on her lips. Tightning her fingers around his, she rested her head against his shoulders. "Down to the dock."  
  
*****  
  
Once down there, she slipped out of his arms and walked to the very end, looking up at the sky. Trees covered most of the view of the sky, which is why she had other plans in mind. Slipping off her pajama bottoms, she revealed the bottom to a bikini bottom. Turning to him, she took one of his hands in hers, "There's a floating dock in the middle of the lake. Will you swim out there with me?"  
  
She knew about how well that was going to go over with him, but she was determined to get him in the water.  
  
Faithe's chosen destination struck fear in Orlando's heart, but, surprisingly, the man showed little of the emotion inside him. He hadn't the slightest clue at what she was getting at; perhaps it was merely a star or something she wanted to show him, or maybe she just thought of the lake as a serene place for her to talk to him. Regardless, Orlando swallowed nervously, then nodded, tightly shutting his eyes as he tightened his grip on the young woman, apparating them both about three feet inland from where the dock began.  
  
As she slipped gracefully out of his arms, he relished in the feeling of her skin sliding against his own, and it was only when that feeling completely passed that the man's brilliant blue eyes opened. Not looking at the eerie water, they instead flitted upward, to the sky, calmed by the vision of what little stars he could see through the treetops, a small smile appeared on his lips, though, due to the thoughts in his mind, the smile was rather short of being too noticeable. He was worried about Kaytlin, about Faithe, and was somewhat uneasy about what Faithe was doing at the moment, which was walking towards the end of the dock.  
  
Slowly turning his gaze downward, his eyes froze on the image of Faithe's body as her pants slipped off. For a moment, he hadn't a clue what she was doing, and, thus, for modesty's sake, closed his eyes and turned away. Then, studying the image that had been burned into his mind of Faithe's beautiful, flawless legs, he began to think that the small fabric his eyes had seen wasn't an undergarment, but rather a swimsuit. Curiosity getting the better of him, he hesitantly turned his head back in time to see her walk towards him and take his hand in her own.  
  
Her words were soft and sincere, and had Orlando not been completely scared, he would have obeyed them in an instant. All things considered, the man still wanted to do as she asked, solely because doing so would mean being able to be with the woman whose presence he had been denied for the past two weeks. Taking a small breath, he gazed into her eyes for a second as his eyes slowly glanced downward to the water below.  
  
The wind was calm that night, and it wasn't too cold, therefore, the waters were also as such. Gently lapping at the dock posts, the black water, dotted with a few stars' reflections, was beautiful, yet the memory of the last time he had slipped into the water was too much for him. Closing his eyes, he could feel the warm water of the Pacific Ocean surrounding him and hear the gentle waves as his small ten-year-old, lanky limbs paddled expertly through the waters, taking him further and further out from the coast of his home island of O'ahu.  
  
Just standing there, still hand-in-hand with Faithe, Orlando appeared nearly tranquil for a moment, then, without warning, a shudder rippled through his body and it jolted as, in his mental flashback, the shark's teeth sunk into his leg. If one couldn't already figure out what was playing through the man's head, the way in which his left/free hand flung to his left thigh as a cringing sound escaped his lips would probably have given them a rather helpful clue.  
  
Opening his eyes to save himself from the horror of completing the memory in his mind, Orlando shook his head and took a single step towards the water, trying to remind himself that the water before him wasn't the ocean, and that there couldn't possibly be any sharks in it. Still, his mind betrayed him and he stopped before he could make himself come any closer. 'Alright,' it seemed to say, 'there may not be sharks, but you still can't swim.  
  
Closing his eyes again, a second fear overcame the man. Twelve years ago (for as of May 7, the Astronomy professor had compiled twenty-two years of age), after the shark had bitten him, the small boy had fought it off as best he could. In fact, despite the blood in the water, he was able to fend off the shark well enough to escape death and swam far enough away to where he could float momentarily in the water long enough to use what was left of his swim trunks to bandage the wound and prevent any more shark attractant from leaking into the water. But, by that time, the boy had to have been nearly a mile, if not more, from the coast, which, given his expertise in swimming (because it had been something he'd done all his life), was usual nothing, was, due to his expended energy that day, a near life sentence. He had swum for about a half-hour after the attack, but, not being able to use his left leg so well, hadn't gotten more than an eighth of a mile towards shore and, consequently, had just let himself slip under. He could still feel the burning in his lungs as his small body had disappeared beneath the waves. And, as the twenty-two-year-old man stood at the shore edge just then, his breath quickened and he began to shake slightly as tears flooded his eyes, yet failed to fall.  
  
Flitting his eyes open quickly, he turned back to Faithe, squeezing her hand tightly to re-assure himself that she was still there. Once that moment had passed, he tried to form an answer. There was a part of him that was almost angry with her just then. He hadn't truly spoken to her in two weeks, which was her fault; he hadn't seen her for three days that week, which had been unexpected, and, also, her fault; she was battered, bruised and, in spite of it all, still beautiful, but she wouldn't tell him what had happened, which, obviously was her fault; she neglected to tell him about Kayte, and, had Jake not told him, he would have remained clueless, which struck a chord of dismay in his heart. also Faithe's fault; and, when the woman finally came back to talk to him, in the middle of the night, fourteen days after their first fight ever, she didn't want to talk about anything like that, only drag him out to the lake to drudge up past horrors that he knew she already knew about.  
  
Orlando didn't understand, and, thus, tried to put together a feeble explanation of why she was acting as such. Eventually, the man concluded that she was hurt by not only what he had done to her, but by the sole events of the past two weeks, and was trying to escape that pain by focusing her mind on something else, like trying to help him overcome a fear impossible to overcome, to help him to make herself feel better about something. The thought of being used crossed Orlando's mind, but he knew that, at the moment, his relationship with Faithe wasn't strong enough to sustain itself should he voice a concern such as that. Glancing down at their entangled hands for a moment, he then gazed back up into Faithe's eyes. She needed him right now, for whatever reason, and, apart from needing her as well, Orlando wanted to help her in whatever way he could. but this wasn't possible.  
  
"No," he replied, shaking his head at her, then turning it out to the lake, "I just can't."  
  
That was all that passed through the man's lips: a simple, quiet reply. He hadn't felt it necessary to let her in on the terror he had just re- experienced by going into any further detail. Faithe stared at him intently, knowing his answer long before he ever said it. She knew what she was asking was silghtly unfair, but she had her reasons behind it, and they didn't have much time. Her brown eyes never leaving his blue ones, she bit her bottom lip.  
  
She remembered the emotins that coarsed through her body that night he had tried to coax her on the broom. Her chest had tightened up with fear, and it was all she could do to keep from running off and bawling. She felt herself shrink when a look of anger crossed his face momentarily, and her eyes dropped down to the dock. Closing her eyes when his answer finally came, she brought her eyes back up to his face.  
  
Reaching her other hand out, she caught his free hand and squeezed both his hands gently. "Orlando, please," speaking softly, there was a pleading note in her tone, and in her eyes. "I know how you feel, but I need you to do this with me. I'm going to be right there beside you, and there's nothing dangerous in this lake."  
  
Taking a step forward, she closed some of the gap between the two. "I wouldn't be asking you to do this if I didn't think you could do it. Please...I need you." Her voice cracked on the last three words, but she held her emotions inside of her.  
  
((Gah. Orlando's so verbose. lol. I'm sorry, that's why this post is so long))  
  
Although his eyes weren't looking towards her, Orlando could still feel the heavy gaze of Faithe's eyes upon his face just as much as he could feel his other hand be swept up in hers. A sense of near-guilt touched him just then, as though he ought to be sorry he couldn't do what Faithe was asking. He knew that she spoke the truth, and that there was nothing dangerous in the lake. save the water itself, which he had grown to fear. He offered her a slight nod, showing that he appreciated her trying. But, throughout the last twelve years, the man hadn't so much as stepped in a puddle for fear of sinking into it, magically, of course, for he wasn't completely crazy with fear.  
  
Her words were soft, pleading and gentle, yet they sparked bitterness in Orlando's mind. He was involuntarily begrudging Faithe for this, not because he was upset at her for having the audacity to try and tackle this deep fear, because, had the circumstances been different, he would have appreciated it, but rather because, to him, she was speaking as though she had no idea what she had put him through, more of within the past five days as opposed to the past fourteen. A silence ensued to a moment as he glanced up into her eyes.  
  
"If you need me so badly, then why won't you just take me? I'm yours, Faithe. You need me? What about how I've needed you, Faithe? You may have been here, but I haven't had you for two weeks, and I know that that's partially my fault, but I don't know what else I can possibly do to fix things on my part. The ball's been in your court, and you haven't so much as touched a finger to it.  
  
"Do you know how worried about you I've been? When I didn't see you for three days? Three whole days, Faithe! Can you even begin to conceive what went through my mind? I didn't have a clue what had happened to you- no one did. There wasn't a night that went by where I didn't wake up in a cold sweat, praying that I had only had a dream and not some sort of twisted premonition. And then, you finally came back, I saw your delicate, fragile, amazingly beautiful body scarred, beaten. And I couldn't do anything to make it better. I didn't know how it had happened, and you wouldn't talk to me.  
  
"Then, tonight, you come into my room in the middle of the night, still torn-up, and, instead of talking to me or anything like that, you're trying to use me to get your mind off Kayte by making me into some sort of project? Telling me that you know I can do it, and that you need me to do it, but never once caring that I'm still in the dark here!"  
  
How wonderful all of that sounded in Orlando's mind, and how he longed to let it take the next step through his lips. Yet, he was in a calm enough state of mind to know that if those words left his lips, whatever chances he had of reconciling with Faithe would be pushed further away. Thus, his eyes spoke them instead, the brilliant blue hue turned to a swirled gray, and it was only after that moment of communicative silence that he spoke.  
  
Holding her hands in his own, he absentmindedly ran his fingers across them as his eyes softened slightly, turning more of a slate blue shade. He wanted to help her; in spite of all the seeds of bitterness that were budding inside of him, he still wanted to protect her. He just couldn't. Faithe's fear of flying had been based entirely on being hit with a bludger- an outside physical force- but Orlando's, though caused by a shark incident, was primarily rooted in the fact that he himself hadn't been able to swim back to shore. He knew, though, that the lake was much less than a mile across either way, and that it couldn't possibly be more than fifty or so feet deep, even at the center, but it didn't matter. The lake was still filled with water, which, if, at any moment, if Orlando's body should choose to give out on him, would eagerly swallow him.  
  
Perhaps if Orlando had just given it some thought, he could have apparated across, but, that, too, held the same possibility (which, like the others, wasn't at all likely) that he would get tired and apparate over water, and, consequently fall in, and not be able to swim to shore, or simply safety, for that matter. It didn't matter to him that he was a highly skilled swimmer; he had failed himself once, and wasn't about to take a chance on that again.  
  
"Faithe," he whispered with a sorrowful smile, unwrapping one hand from hers in order to place it gently upon her face and run it down until his hand rested almost atop her collarbone, "I love you, and I'd do anything for you. but not this. I want to, but I can't. Every time I even think about it, I feel like I'm sinking again. The water rushes over me, and my lungs start to burn, but my arms and legs are too tired and too weak to push me towards the surface, so I give in, and let the water take me.  
  
"I woke up on the beach that time, only about five miles from where I had swum out, but that was luck."  
  
Sighing, he took another hesitant glance at the water, hoping to find the strength to just leap in, but finding nothing but another flashback. Why was it so important that he swim out to the raft with her? Did she fancy a midnight swim? What possible whim of hers could he be subjecting himself to? Orlando hadn't a clue, but he knew Faithe, and if she hadn't spoken to him in two weeks and then, suddenly, came to his room in the middle of the night, beaten to a pulp, and pleaded with him to swim out to a raft in the middle of a lake, that something had to be going on. something more than her simply trying to focus her mind elsewhere.  
  
"I can't."  
  
Shaking his head, he turned back towards her with a defeated look upon his face as his pursed his lips together.  
  
"Please understand, Faithe."  
  
Her head tilted towards his hand as she felt the familiar tingle from his hand on her skin. Closing her eyes, she winced slightly as his hand rested on her collar bone, but tried her best to hide it. Reaching up, she took his hand off, not only for the sake of removing his hand from a bruise, but because she needed the comfort of his hand. Opening her eyes, she bit her bottom lip to keep the tears that had welled up in her eyes from falling over. Squeezing his hand, she let dropped both of his hands and turned around.  
  
"The only thing I could think of when I felt that broom underneath me was that pain I had felt. My stomach felt like it was dropping, and I could remember that terrifying weightless feeling when I fell. I could hear the cracking sound that I later found out was my neck and spine." Turning back around to face him, there were two streams on her cheeks, but she refused to let her tears show while looking at him. Reaching up, she placed her hand gently on his cheek, "I trusted you Orlando. I trusted you when you said that you wouldn't let anything happen to me. I went against myself and my own fears because I trusted you. I'm asking you to do the same thing for me." Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. When she opened her eyes, it was a struggle not to cry, "If I never ask you anything else after this, that's fine with me, just please trust me on this Orlando. Trust that I wouldn't let anything happen to you."  
  
Faithe wanted to talk to him, she wanted to open up to him about the torment she'd been enduring the last two weeks. Something was holding her back though. It wasn't that she didn't necessary feel like she couldn't open up to him because she didn't trust him, but moreso because she felt that things were still shakey between them. Faithe had come to realize that she did trust Orlando, and was ashamed of herself for letting him think otherwise...for letting herself think otherwise.  
  
Running her hand down his arm till she finally reclaimed his hand, she looked at him with a silent plea in her eyes, "Orlando...please. Just this once. I won't ever ask you to do it again, and I know it's not fair of me to ask you even once. But please just trust that I have my reasons."  
  
Letting her remove his hand, Orlando glanced quizzically downward at where it had been; seeing a bruise, he immediately whinced himself, feeling sorry for not being more careful. Gently he entangled his fingers with hers as their hands touched, and then, just as gently, untangled them when Faithe relinquished her graps on his hands.  
  
He let her turn away, then take his hand again. Kknowing that she too felt somewhat of the same fear and terror that he felt made things a little better. It wasn't the completely identical, he knew, but combined with her soft words, that knowledge was enough. He knew she wouldn't let anything happen to him, but, his mind asked, what would happen if things weren't in her control?  
  
'No, he told himself, 'Stop being foolish. Faithe needs you.'  
  
And it was that thought that allowed him to finally force himself to belief he could overcome the terror. For a moment, he was silent, simply wrapped his arms protectively around her, taking care, this time, not to press her bruises. Guiding her head to his chest, his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, gently stroking it.  
  
Faithe was right; it wasn't fair of her to ask him to do it even just once, especially under the current circumstances. But it didn't matter. The look in her eyes had been plain- she needed him, and he wouldn't fail her.  
  
Holding her a moment longer, he slowly and reluctantly released his arms from around her and stepped back, still having spoken not a single word. Keeping the eerie, tense silence intact, the man took the bottom of his shirt in his hands and pulled it over his head and, in a single, swift, soft movement, it laid on the dock.  
  
Apart from the near violent gnawing on his tongue, he didn't display his nervousness. Walking slowly down the wooden planks, he paused as he reached the point where Faithe stood. Not looking at her, but, rather, at his hand, he placed a delicate hand upon her shoulder, ran it down her arm and joined their hands, then, continued walking the plank, eyes focused on the emptiness at the end of the wooden dock.  
  
Upon reaching the end, he took a deep breath and let go of Faithe's hand with a sort of regretful look. Getting into the water was something the man had to do alone. Once he had proved that task accomplishable, he could rely on her, but not before.  
  
Turning back, he gazed out over the glass-like water and tried to quiet the voice in his head screaming at him to run away. Curling his toes over the edge of the dock, his arms raised themselves above his head and, in another single, swift and soft movement, had dove marvelously into the water.  
  
She bit her bottom lip nervously as he stood there, soundlessly. Feeling his arms embrace her, a long sigh escaped her lips with a soft moan to accompany it. Closing her eyes as his fingers stroked her hair, she buried her face in his chest, wincing as her eye grazed his body.  
  
Watching him take his shirt off, she rolled her lips inward as she felt her cheeks sting slightly with a blush. Walking beside him, she watched him dive into the water, the left side of her mouth crooking up in a small smile, a look of adoration in her eyes. Sitting down on the edge, she gently slipped into the water, using her elbows.  
  
The water was cool, but not freezing. Her tank top clung to her body as the water seeped up through the threads. Letting go of the dock, she dipped underneath the water. Surfacing, she took a deep breath and began to swim awkwardly towards the floating dock. Normally the swim took her fifteen minutes, but that was under usual circumstances when she was paddling hard. However, with her wrist hardly useable, Faithe had to stop occasionally and rest. They reached the dock in less than half an hour, and she had never been so grateful for the plank of wood that had been bewitched to stay there.  
  
After a lot of uncomfortable shifting, Faithe managed to pull herself up on the dock, which was only about an inch above the water. Sitting up, she brushed her sopping hair out of her face, rubbing her eyes as she did so. She was in pain, but at the same time, the exertion felt great, and the coldness from the water had numbed her wrist.  
  
They only had minutes to spare, but they had made it in time. Her eyes stared up at the sky, as if waiting for something.  
  
The sensation of having his entire body submerged underwater was one that Orlando Lorenz had failed to experience for quite a while. Although pleasant, the coolness of the water took a little getting used to, as did the fact that the video player in his mind wouldn't respond to the incessant clicking of the metaphorical "pause" and "stop" buttons on the remote he was so desperately pushing.  
  
Terror struck him as he felt his hands brush the cold sand of the bottom, having dove so deep, but he somehow managed to restrain the emotion and allow his instincts to act. Having always been a swimmer, surfacing was something nearly programmed into his body, and, thus, he decided to let his body move itself, without allowing his mind to interfere  
  
Blocking out his thoughts, the man's body easily shifted itself and broke through to the surface. Taking a breath, his eyes darted around, orientating himself and realizing that the dock was quite a bit further than it had seemed from shore. Sniffing a little more oxygen in through his nose, the man continued gnawing on his tongue and ducked under the water's surface, swimming underwater, the quickest and most painless way he knew how to.  
  
The journey was long, but, successful at zoning out his mind and merely allowing his instincts to do their job, it wasn't a problem for Orlando; his endurance was still what it had been twelve years ago, if not better. Coming up to breath about every three minutes, then returning to a calm yet enthused underwater stroke, his systematic actions were almost mechanic in nature.  
  
He arrived not too long before Faithe, and, pulling himself up onto the dock, was surprised to find that his body was shaking as his mind was finally allowed its say. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself, just to the point where the shaking had died down to a slight tremble and laid back on the wood, relishing the hard surface he had to lay on, whcih was all the more welcome after spending so long in the liquid water.  
  
Gazing up into the sky, he found that his fear and mentally created pains were washed away by the sky; the stars were just as effective then as they had been for him as a boy. Entranced by them, Orlando failed to notice Faithe climbing aboard the small floating station.  
  
Reaching down, she slipped her fingers into his, squeezing his hand reassuringly. A small smile spread over her lips as her other hand touched his stomach. Looking back up at the sky, she pointed to a specific spot in the sky.  
  
Almost as if on cue, and right as she laid her hand down, two white shooting stars flew through the sky. From the human eye, the two stars which were driving through the heavens in a parallel sequence, only looked to be about an inch apart. However, there were, naturally, many miles in between the two. After covering a good distance, the two stars closed their distance and collided. While under normal circumstances an explosion would have been had, this was not the case. The two stars diverged into one shooting star, and after fifteen seconds, vanished from sight. The whole event took less than 45 seconds, but seemed to last a lifetime.  
  
Looking down at Orlando, she bit her bottom lip. Not everybody could see this phenomenon, but Faithe had no doubt in her heart or her mind that Orlando would be able to see it. Her stomach fluttered slightly as her eyes searched his face intently.  
  
Feeling the familiar feeling of her hand slipping into his, Orlando's head turned slightly, just enough so he could see her face, and his hand returned the squeeze, although his head gently bumped into her leg. Offering her a sheepish smile, he somewhat rippled his body a few inches along the wood in order to be able to lay his head upon her leg.  
  
As her fingers touched his chest, a small blush was evident upon his cheeks, but it soon vanished as his eyes followed her fingertips upwards. A quiet gasp escaped his lips at the phenomenon before him. Meteors were rare, and, when they did happen, Orlando, as the astrophile he was, knew about them, especially sights as rare as what he was witnessing.  
  
A small noise ((yeah, that's the one... hee hee)) escaped his lips at the vision of the two "shooting stars" seemingly melting together into one, yet he dared to neither take his eyes off the sky nor interrupt the spectacle with words for fear of missing another miracle.  
  
Once he was sure the phenomenon had played itself out, his lips still remained parted, though his eyes had now flitted to meet Faithe's gaze, in complete awe of what he had seen.  
  
An almost grateful smile spread over her lips as he reacted to the sight in the heavens. She'd almost started laughing, but held it in. Her hand slipped up to his hair, gently stroking it as her brown eyes searched his face.  
  
"Dos llegan a ser Uno," speaking softly, the Spanish words rolled off her lips effortlessly. "Five hundred years ago, there were two tribes in Equador that were always at war. They were always killing, murdering each other, thieving from one another, always trying to outbest the other tribe. Well, after a two hundred year old grudge, the two reigning chiefs decided to make peace. The same night they made a pact, they saw the two stars diverge into one, and it was a miracle then...and still is today. The two tribes took it as a promising sign that they had done the right thing, and that the stars were a sign from their ancestors proving their judgement to be right." Clearing her throat, her eyes skimmed the sky once more, a small smile on her face. Looking back down, her fingers ran gently over his lips before slipping back into his hair, toying with a strand of his dark, wet hair.  
  
"For some reason unknown, not everybody can see it. It happens once every five years. Anytime anybody has ever tried to record it, they've lost the ability to see it, so people naturally thought that they were crazy. The only way word of it has stayed alive is by word of mouth." Her eyes continued to stare down at him, a look of adoration, passion, and love in her eyes.  
  
"Dos llegan a ser uno," whispering the name once more, she looked at the water, "Two become one. Some people look at it as a sign about who they're supposed to spend the rest of their life with. There are even some people who see it together, and believe it to be a sign that they're seeing it with their soul mate..." Trailing off, her eyes averted back to the sky, feeling slightly embarrassed. Faithe wasn't sure what she believed, but she realized a little too late that her last few sentences were pretty clear.  
  
Bringing him here and showing him this was her way of apologizing. Whether he caught it or not, it didn't matter because she knew she would end up apologizing before the night was over.  
  
Delighting in the familiar feeling her fingers running through his hair gave him, Orlando listened intently to Faithe's explanation. For some reason, the story had an odd sense of déjà vu for him. Thinking about it for a moment, he recalled hearing a somewhat similar story in his Popular Astronomy Myths class in Maine. It was funny, really, how much the professor had convinced him that such things were as true as green Martians, but, yet, how he had literally seen the infamous two meteors become one. Lips curling into a small, almost proud sort of smile, whatever begrudging or bitter feelings the man had had were now almost completely gone; this sight had been well worth having to be in the water. And, although the man still hadn't completely conquered his hydrophobia, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been.  
  
As her fingers touched his lips, lifted his head ever so slightly in order to gently kiss them before lying his head back down on Faithe's leg, which, just so happened, was a rather comfortable place despite the cold feeling on the back of his neck due to the cold water still on her bare skin. Gazing back up at her, the same look of adoration lighting his own eyes, he remained silent as she continued her enchanting explanation.  
  
Nodding at the "crazy" part, Orlando chose not to tell her of his insistent Professor Marquette's assenting lecture; it didn't seem that important, and, besides, listening to Faithe's voice was like hearing a blissful melody that his ears had been denied the pleasure of hearing for such a long time- much better than listening to his own voice drone on about something so trivial.  
  
As her gaze flew towards the water, his eyes remained locked on her face, searching for some sign of what was going through her head. Yet, once she had spoken, he needed question her motives no more. The last ounce of rancor had left his body at her last words and been replaced with an odd sort of feeling- one of relief, of happiness, and, most of all, of love. The eloquence of her words, accompanied by the romantic twist that was already innate to them, prompted a small smile to cross his face as his eyes softened, still staring at her face as tears of happiness and relief gave them a watery shine.  
  
Perhaps this was some form of apology; despite it lacking the actual words "I'm sorry", Orlando could have taken it that way. After all, her last few lines had been, aside from cute, rather particular in their meaning. As for the whole idea of "soul mates", Orlando wasn't ever completely sure on their existence; it seemed to him that there was a point in all of his relationships where he believed to be with someone he ought to spend the rest of his life loving, and, although they had problems, he always believed that, had they tried, they could have reconciled, but that hadn't happened with Demeter nor Adhara (who wasn't technically a large part of Orlando's life, but still ought to be mentioned as a failed relationship). However, the idea of there being just one person in the entire world for each other just didn't seem to fit with him; perhaps he was just too idealistic.  
  
Yet, although he may not have entirely agreed on the details of what defined a "soul mate", he hadn't a doubt in his mind that he would be more than happy spending the rest of his life with Faithe, which was obviously symbolized by the small object lying in the dark velvet box in the first drawer of his nightstand. The smile on his face grew a little wider at the thought of it now that he knew that, although the words may have just slipped from her lips, something of the like had crossed Faithe's mind as well, and she hadn't exactly been against he idea, which, given the past two weeks' circumstances, was another miracle within itself. Pure rapture inundated the man's body as his eyes wandered across Faithe's face, finally feeling as though he was forgiven- free from the guilty burden he had carried for so long.  
  
Slowly, he raised himself up to a sitting position, pushing off the dock with his hand, and slid back to be equal with her. Searching her face a moment more, he then allowed the grateful smile to resume its place upon his face. Reaching over a hand, he placed it upon Faithe's cheek, turning her face towards him in a tender manner, so as to prevent any further injury to her. Seeing her bruised face again, he wished he had been better at potions, perhaps then he could have concocted something that would heal her. Tilting his head almost inquisitively, his eyes said what they needed to, which was, if anything, forgiveness. It didn't matter anymore, as long as she loved him, which he knew she did, and trusted him, which it seemed she did.  
  
((Hrm. this is a kind of difficult situation to do nicely and subtly but still be true to how I envision Orlando's character. *ponders* Hope this is alright. :o/))  
  
Just staring into her eyes for another short, silent moment, Orlando leaned in to kiss her- not a peck, either, a full-on kiss, which more than made up for the two weeks he had been forced to abstain from such things. As their lips touched, his hand slid softly from her face down to behind her neck, fingers entangling themselves with the long, wet strands of hair around them. There was a split-second within that moment that Orlando had instinctively pressed his shoulder gently against hers, moving to guide Faithe's body down to the dock. Even someone as wizened and loving as Orlando had an unrequited urge, hormonal imbalances.  
  
Feeling this, he had caught himself and instantly stopped, both surprised and slightly ashamed at his action, and, instead, lifted her back up towards him by means of the hand on the back of her neck. Apart from Faithe being injured, it just simply wasn't a good idea. The two of them were already half-naked, and the passion of the emotions that had been bottled inside the two, unreleased for two weeks, could no doubt have the power to lead them somewhere they ought not go. What was he doing. this was wrong; this was what they, those against relationships such as theirs (an unconventional student-teacher relationship), expected of him.  
  
Besides, it would bring more pain than pleasure; the innocence that would be taken away that could never be replaced would haunt him, should anything go wrong. Instead he'd whisper and gaze deeply into her eyes, knowing that the love they had for one another was enough for then, no more was needed for him to be content. After kissing her for a moment more, Orlando eventually pulled himself back, yet kept his hand lightly draped around her.  
  
Gazing into her eyes, he couldn't help but search them for some sort of clue as to what she was feeling. Fear? Regret? He didn't know, and, frankly, was a little worried about finding out. Choosing to pretend that it never happened for the moment, he ran his fingers along the nape of her neck gently.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, offering a warm, genuine smile.  
  
Staring at the dark water, she felt her eyes on him and suddenly felt nervous. Not sure what was going through his mind, what he was thinking about what she'd said, or even what he was thinking about her, Faithe's stomach was doing a continual cartwheel. Worried that her words may be pushing him further away, she was scared to meet his eyes, scared of the rejection that she may see in those brilliant blue eyes. Feeling the dock shift slightly as Orlando sat up, she turned her head, meeting his gaze.  
  
Seeing that smile on his face, that smile that Faithe had grown to love and adore, she felt relief tugging at her heart. Something inside of her, however, was scared to believe that everything was all right. How could he forgive her? She completely ignored his existence the week after their trip to Manhatten, unable to look at him without seeing that vision of him kissing Demeter. After she allowed her eyes to settle on his eyes once and for all, without interuption, Faithe's face melted into a look of utter and complete apology. Her eyes conveyed how sorry she was for pushing him aside, for closing herself up to him, for holding him beyond arm's length.  
  
Unsure of what to do or say, she made no move as his hand trailed down to her neck. Her body was trembling, but whether that was due to the wind blowing on her, or because she was absolutely petrified, she didn't know, or really care. Closing her eyes as she returned his kiss, a small, silent tear slipped down her cheek. Wrapping her right arm around his neck, she allowed herself to be steered wherever he took her. Feeling the boards against her back, it took her a moment to realize exactly where she had been led. Her stomach performed a strange assortment of backflips as she felt her head become lightheaded.  
  
She would have been lying to herself if she didn't admit silently that she was thankful he had pulled her back up. Reaching her other hand up, she absentmindedly toyed with his hair. This was the way things were supposed to be, nothing more, for the time being, and nothing less. As he pulled back, a small objective noise escaped her throat. Keeping her right arm around his neck, and her left hand still twisting his hair in between her fingers, she waited a moment to open her eyes. A look of serene contentment played in her eyes and on her face, but no emotion was stronger than that of love.  
  
"I love you," whispering, she let his hair fall back into place, running her fingers over his bottom lip. "More." Grinning, she kissed his nose, and winked. The mischievous flirtatious look lasted only a moment before melting back into a warm smile, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could.  
  
Searching her eyes and finding nothing but love within the beautiful brown orbs, Orlando grew slightly more confused. At first, it was because he couldn't figure out if she was hiding her emotions or if she hadn't understood the significance of what he almost allowed himself to do. As his shoulder had pressed against hers, he didn't remember having felt any resistance, but was that because there truly hadn't been any in her mind or because she was just a little naïve? In all honesty, Orlando didn't know, but the situation was such that, if she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, then he wouldn't have the slightest objection. He almost wanted to apologize, but talking about it would only remind him of what he had done and, more importantly, what he almost let himself do.  
  
Closing his eyes, almost in a sort of silent gratitude, as she whispered, he leaned his head back just a bit, allowing more of her hand to touch his neck. He had known she loved him, but the verbal reassurance was appreciated. Their relationship had been anything but solid for the last while and now, after all was said and done, knowing that they were finally returning to the way things ought to be was, in a word, nice. But their discord couldn't simply just end, and he was sure they both knew it, probably him moreso than Faithe, though.  
  
Offering a sort of sorrowful smile as she made an attempt to revert to her endearing casual flirtatiousness, which he normally appreciated, Orlando kind of shook his head. He wanted it to be that easy, truly he did, but he knew that they still had too many issues to resolve, too many things to talk about and too many problems to analyze before they would be able to act like that again. It wasn't that he was looking for a five-minute apology (like the one he had made to her), but rather that he couldn't just let himself slip back into their relationship living the lie that nothing had ever gone wrong.  
  
Leaning in, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment, eyes closed again.  
  
"Impossible," he whispered. Although sincere, his voice held a slightly stern and serious undertone. The grudging feelings were beginning to return slightly, and Orlando was powerless to prevent them. Sighing, he lifted his face off hers and tilted his head slightly. In his eyes, which were now a light, but vibrant, blue color, an air of vulnerability waltzed hand-in- hand with authenticity as they merely gazed into her own.  
  
"Do you trust me?" he asked after a moment, dropping the hand that had been around her neck down to her shoulder. The question was random given the current conversation, but it seemed to fit right into his thought pattern, and he was sure she wouldn't find him asking such a thing odd at all given their current situation.  
  
The question itself had multiple levels to it, and Orlando had meant it on every single one. Did she trust him when he told her he loved her? That he would be true to her? That he wasn't going to ever go back to Demeter? Did she trust him enough to confide in him about everything? To tell him how she had gotten so battered? To talk to him about the Kayte situation? And, finally, the taunting thought in the back of his mind: did she trust him not to take whatever physical relationship the two had too far? Orlando had never held a doubt about such a thing in his mind about Faithe until a few minutes ago; now, he was unsure of himself, or what he was capable of, and, quite frankly, it scared him.  
  
Nodding gently when he shook his head, her smile faded, but not into a look unpleasantness. She felt...how did she feel? Did she even know? There was confusion inside of her, but she wasn't unnerved by it. Feeling his touch, his kiss, his arms around her - all of those outside factors alone had made her feel alive again. Moreso, and more importantly, being together with him emotionally had filled the missing pieces in her heart that had been vacant for the past two weeks. She had felt drained and alone, but now, even though she was emotionally and physically exhausted, there was something about Orlando that revitalized her.  
  
It wasn't so much an energetic notion inside of her, but his being there made Faithe feel more secure about being emotional. He made her feel protected, and she didn't feel like she always had to be on high alert with her emotions. She knew she could open up to him, and completely break down in front of him, and that was something she had never felt so free to do that with anybody. Even with Jake, who had been her best friend for the past thirteen years, she always maintained a sense of false strength emotionally.  
  
Feeling his forehead on hers, she reached her hand up and laid her three middle fingers on his jawline ever so softly. Closing her eyes, a halfhearted smirk escaped her lips at his rebuttal, although it only last a single second. Hearing his question, her eyes filled with tears of regret. How could she have made him feel as if she didn't trust him? Opening her eyes, she pulled back slightly, lifting his chin gently.  
  
"Orlando, I trust you more than anybody. With anything." Swallowing harshly, her eyes dropped to the dock, her sense of shame showing through in her facial expression. "I'm sorry I said I didn't. At the time, it may have been true, but I knew deep down that nothing could ever take away that trust I have for you. I was just too blinded my emotions that day to think straight." Closing her eyes, her eyes furrowed together as two tears slipped down her cheeks. Averting her eyes to look at his, she reached up and touched his cheek gently, "I wouldn't have let you go further than that, Orlando. I know it's not what you want right now, and it's not something I'm ready for right now." As she guided his head upwards, Orlando's eyes remained locked into Faithe's, nervously awaiting her reply. In that short moment of silence before she spoke, a sense of horrid anxiety passed through him, and he was sure that if that precarious silence lasted a moment longer, he would die. Each millisecond of it, he grew a little more doubtful or her response, despite the fact that the time between his last word and her first not being dreadfully long. Then, at last, as she spoke his name, his eyes lit up with hope, whose sparkle only swelled as her voice spoke word after word of just what he wanted- and needed- to hear.  
  
Leaning forward almost quickly, and, consequently (if Faithe hadn't been most adamant about keeping her hand where it lay), causing Faithe's hand to fall from his chin, down his neck, to somewhere around his collarbone, Orlando's lips brushed Faithe's forehead, silently thanking her. Not that he felt like she was doing him some grand favor, but more of a manifestation of how relieved he was to finally be free of the guilt, for a moment, at least. After he had pulled back, he saw her eyes cast themselves down to the dock, and her mien radiated that same sense of shame he had felt not only two weeks ago, but, more notably, five minutes ago. A while ago, he had wanted her to be sorry, to feel as guilty for pushing him away for two weeks just as he had felt guilty for pushing her away when he had kissed Demeter. Now, seeing the imperative remorse and ignominy in her face, he regretted ever feeling such things.  
  
At her next words, the man bit tongue (literally) and began, as was a habit of his, gnawing nervously on it as he recalled "that day". He could see Demeter's face when he had first pulled back after she had tried to initiate a kiss- confused, scared and bewildered, its image was burned into his memory. Then he felt her lips upon his, and, inconsistent with before, the feeling (or, rather, the memory of the feeling) was now more of a sting as opposed to a pleasure. Next, the image that would never leave him mind entered his thoughts: Faithe's face. The look upon it had been shock more than anything else, followed immediately by hurt; she had bitten her bottom look and her brown eyes had flooded with pain as they moved from Demeter to himself before she had turned around and shut the door, calmly walking out on him.  
  
He hadn't a right to be upset with her for not trusting him, as much as he wanted to let himself believe otherwise; he wasn't infallible. That day had been entirely his fault, and, although he may have been faintly justifiable in blaming her for how things had been between them since that day, he couldn't deny that none of that would have happened if he hadn't caused the triggering incident.  
  
"It's alright, I understand," he whispered, leaning his head downward with a sympathetic look in his eyes and gently wiping away the couple of tears cascading down her cheeks. "It wasn't your fault."  
  
Feeling her touch upon his cheek, Orlando leaned into her hand, smiling just the slightest bit as he met her gaze. Yet, at her words, his own gaze faltered slightly and his eyes flitted downward shamefully as he turned his head away from her, but not so much that her hand didn't remain on it. There was a part of him that was glad it had been brought up for discussion of a sort, that she was telling him exactly how she felt and thus preventing any incorrect presumptions to linger within his mind. However, there was another part of him that, understandably, felt the complete opposite. Her wording, especially, fit right in with the way that part of her mind was thinking, when she told him that she wouldn't "let him". It was as though she thought, or perhaps knew, that he might have.  
  
Somewhere inside his mind, he knew she was just trying to be comforting, and let him know that if it had come down to that point, she wouldn't have allowed him to make such a dreadful mistake, not just for her sake, but for his as well. Still, he couldn't refute the voice in his head asking him what would have happened if he hadn't caught himself. Blocking the atrocious thought out, Orlando shook his head, looking back at Faithe almost sadly.  
  
"Good," he replied with a halfhearted smile, "I'm sorry, though." He trailed off there, not exactly sure of himself for once.  
  
"And you're right, I don't want that," he added. Then, catching himself, cringed a bit and tried to rephrase that, knowing that those hadn't been the right words. "I mean, I do.  
  
"I want you, Faithe."  
  
The words came out a little too quickly and passionately, prompting another awkward moment for Orlando as he fumbled for words.  
  
"Not now though. Well, yes, now, but. You're not ready, and. I mean, I might be, or, maybe, I'm not either, but.  
  
"Oh, that didn't sound right either!" he exclaimed with frustration, though his voice didn't go above a mezzo-forte.  
  
It was odd for someone with Orlando's personality and intellect to speak so awkwardly. Anytime he spoke, although he was characteristically verbose, his words at least flowed together with some sense of eloquence. But, now. his words were just plain chaotic, as though he didn't even try to think through them in his head before they escaped his mouth.  
  
"I love you, and I want you, but. not on a dock."  
  
He trailed off again, trying to laugh a bit and slightly loosening up, but not nearly to the point where he could be considered anywhere near "relaxed". Orlando was trying though, in all honesty, he was.  
  
"Not just that, but I wouldn't want to put you through a night of kissing me when half my face is covered in this disheveled beard either," he laughed, "Haven't exactly had time to shave lately, and I can't imagine it feels too nice." It was an attempt at a joke, something aimed at easing the tension he was feeling, and the fact that it hadn't worked in unwinding him was rather blatant.  
  
"Besides, there are too many other things to deal with."  
  
His voice trailed off yet again in thought and his mind instantly focused on Kayte, causing his to purse his lips together with agony. Kayte was Faithe's world, and Orlando knew it; she referred to the toddler as "her baby" and Kayte pretty much was Faithe's child in every way that mattered. He wanted to talk to Faithe about it, more for her own well being than his. He wanted her to open up to him again, let him shield and protect her from the bad things in the world and fight those few bad things, which he couldn't possibly have prevented, by her side. He wanted to know who had inflicted such atrocious wounds upon her fragile, beautiful body; he wanted to know where she had been for the first three school days of that week; but, more than those specifics, he wanted to know whatever she would tell him. Anything and everything would be more than welcome.  
  
He knew that the mention of the tiny angel's name would incite some sort of response in Faithe, and thus gently pulled/lifted her into him, so that ((excuse the random lack of eloquence here. but I ought to describe the position so.. yeah..)) she was sitting upon his left thigh ((which was the father one from her original position, I presume)), yet facing outwards with her back split between his left upper arm and chest, the remainder of her legs over his right one, and her feet lying upon the dock. His arms encircled her, holding her affectionately and protectively against him.  
  
"Like Kayte." he whispered despondently.  
  
Closing her eyes as his lips brushed against her forehead, Faithe's hand ran along his collarbone slowly. Meeting his eyes as he wiped away the tears on her face there was a small look of doubt in her eyes. "What happened wasn't anybody's fault, but how I reacted was my fault. I acted like a child..."  
  
As he trailed off his apology, she shook her head, "You have nothing to apologize for Orlando. I knew nothing was going to happen." Watching him as he stumbled over his words, a small smile played on her lips as a look of adoration crossed her eyes. Hearing the words 'I want you' caused a jittery butterfly to do a mile in her stomach. A small, quiet laugh escaped her lips as he became frustrated. Reaching up, she laid her hand on his cheek as her eyes held the fainteste hint of amusement.  
  
"I know what you mean Orlando," speaking softly, her thumb ran gently back and forth on his cheek bone. "I want you too, just not here and now. We've been apart for two weeks, and our judgement is clouded by emotions. It wouldn't be fair for us to make any sort of decision about this right now."  
  
Laughing, she reached down and ran her hand across the hair on his face, wrinkling her nose. "Haven't had time? What's kept you so busy?" Tilting her head curiously, she dropped her hand and reached for his, squeazing it tightly.  
  
Allowing herself to be pulled onto his lap, she relinquished his hand. Closing her eyes, she let out a long breath. She felt safe again, which is a feeling she hadn't felt in two weeks, particularly this past week. With his arms wrapped so tightly around her, Faithe felt like anything could happen right at that moment, and she would be safe. Sitting there with the dock rocking ever so slightly, a comforting serenity had overtaken her.  
  
That was, of course, until she heard Kaytlin's name. Tensing up, her hand flew absentmindedly to the silver star around her neck. Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes, which had filled with tears involuntarily. Turning her head slightly, her eyes searched his, "Jake got in touch with you, didn't he?" Sighing, she looked down at the necklace as her she bit her bottom lip. Placing her index finger on the top point, and her thumb on the bottom as she had done two weeks previously, her brown eyes stared at it intently. The blue glow that had shone so brightly was now paler and not nearly as bright as it had been before.  
  
Closing her eyes, Faithe drew in a sharp breath as a terrible pain shot through her arm. Whimpering slightly, she dropped the star, causing the glow to fade away. "She's hurting and she's sick." Her voice wavered as she spoke, feeling her body shrink into his. Sitting there in silence for quite sometime, Faithe kept her head turned away from his to hide the tears that had, once more, begun falling down her cheeks.  
  
Burying her face in her hands, she hadn't realized that her body had begun to tremble. Shaking her head gently, she sniffed, "It's all my fault that she's gone, Orlando. I couldn't protect her, and it's my fault she got taken." Her voice was beginning to rise in volume as she spoke, and the more the event from last Friday played through her mind, her body began shaking even more. Finally dropping her hands, she opened her eyes, but was unable to see anything but darkness through her blurry eyes. Shaking her head again, she took a deep, shaky breath, "I tried and tried to get to her, but everytime I got close...I tried to attack Bridget, but I couldn't." Tears were beginnign to stream more steadily down her cheeks as she spoke, "Kayte was so scared. I will never forget the look on her face...I've never seen her so scared. She should be at home right now, Orlando, sleeping in her own bed with her cat at the end of bed."  
  
Not aware at how loud her voice was getting, Faithe buried her face in her hands again, beginning to sob as she spoke. "It's my fault she's gone! I couldn't get past Eddie..."  
  
Feeling ((Gah- how many paragraphs that I write start out with that word?!?!)) her fingertips waltz upon his collarbone, Orlando's gaze melted into Faithe's. Yet, at her words, he shook his head. Although she was right about her reaction being her fault, something that Orlando certainly wouldn't ever deny, she didn't seem to understand the cause-and-effect relationship Orlando had concocted in his own mind.  
  
"What happened was [i]my[/i] fault," he insisted, "and mine alone. Even though you think you may have acted like a child, Faithe..."  
  
Shaking his head, Orlando sighed, interrupting the eloquence of his speech once more.  
  
"Or may have been a little juvenile in your actions, what else was there to do?"  
  
Her next words caused the man to shake his head yet again, this time more in shame than in negation, though. This topic was beginning to frustrate him more and more. At first, her words had made him think she thought/knew he might have pushed her further, but now Faithe's resolve- her trust in him- seemed unshakeable. She had just told him she [i]knew[/i] nothing was going to happen, and those words brought a slight smile to the man's face. Although he still couldn't decide what would have happened had he not stopped himself, her trust in him was nice... to say the least.  
  
[quote]"Haven't had time? What's kept you so busy?"[/quote]  
  
Those words brought more of a solemn look to Orlando's face. If only she knew... There hadn't been a single waking moment that Orlando hadn't spent thinking about her. Endless visions had plagued his mind since not seeing her on Monday, and only worsened throughout the week. Putting a hand to his face, he shook his head and sighed, wondering if she really had to ask.  
  
"Worrying about you," he replied, reaching up their entangled hands and running his along her face. His voice was very matter-of-fact, yet completely sincere.  
  
Getting up at five in the morning and wandering to his window seat, the man had just sat there for two hours until it was time for breakfast to start. Then he would change into a seemingly clean pair of clothes and apparate to the Great Hall ((presuming apparating is allowed within Rosencrantz although it isn't in Hogwarts)), yet not eat a thing. His eyes would scan the crowd for Faithe and his mind would manifest fears into horrible scenarios... and the rest of the day would follow in suit.  
  
As Faithe's eyes searched his, Orlando felt horribly guilty for bringing Kaytlin up. Then again, it was really better that Faithe have someone to talk about it to, and, in a less unselfish regard, rather important to Orlando that he figure out what was going on. Thusfar, none of his scanning spell books have proved to be muhc use in his search for Kayte; perhaps, he thought, if he knew more about the circumstances surrounding her disappearance, and had Faithe's help, he could save the little girl.  
  
Holding her close against him, Orlando's lips softly caressed Faithe's shoulder before nodding in response to her question. His eyes followed her hands as they took the necklace between their fingers, and he bit his bit (oddly enough, at the same time as Faithe).  
  
As she inhaled sharply, Orlando's eyes widened with worry, concerned about her, and his grasp around her tightened, if it were possible.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked quickly. The words were barely out of his mouth when Faithe told him.  
  
At those words Orlando felt his heart beat faster in his chest. He was worried and afraid for Kayte's sake, felt helpless with regards to Jake and Faithe, and hadn't the slightest clue how to make it better.  
  
As she turned her head away from him, Orlando let her, although that allowance didn't hold any bearing over his fingertips, which softly stroked her cheek.  
  
"This is swear to you tonight," Orlando whispered, "We'll get her back. She'll be safe, and healthy, and perfectly fine."  
  
As her body began shaking and her face reimmersed itself in her hands, the man was once more overcome by the feeling of utter helplessness. Kayte had been taken for who knows what by some stranger, with no ransom note or anything, and, then, Faithe was blaming herself.  
  
Running his hands along her arms, Orlando tried as best he could to calm the young woman, though he knew such attempts- or any attempts, for the matter- would prove futile. As the tremors intensified, he reverted to simply holding Faithe in his arms, feeling that what little security they gave her would be more beneficial. As she let her hands fall at last, Orlando began gnawing on his tongue. The sight of Faithe, in such a battered state to begin with, crying and shaking was horrifying to him. She was in so much pain, but he couldn't do a thing to help her.  
  
Throughout her fragmented speech, Orlando remained silent, simply holding her... and listening. Yet, at the mention of Bridget's name, his eyes shut for a moment, trying to remember where he had heard the name before, aside from Bridget Preston, Ravenclaw Seeker his first year, of course. Instantly, a flash of Jake mentioning her name crossed his mind and, cross- collaborating that with the parallel to his and Demeter situation, Orlando eventually realized who the woman was and exactly what type of a situation they were now dealing with.  
  
"Faithe, Faithe..."  
  
Orlando slowly whispered her name a few times, repeating it softly as though he was trying to calm her down again, although its secondary purpose was also to give himself something to focus on so he, too, didn't go ballistic invisioning Kayte's face.  
  
[quote]"She should be at home right now, Orlando, sleeping in her own bed with her cat at the end of bed."[/quote]  
  
"She will be, I promise you, Faithe. She will be..."  
  
Even though he said the word's without allowing his voice to falter a bit, it was mainly a strong façade to keep Faithe from completely collapsing on him. Just thinking of the young woman going through this torment alone, holding it all inside of herself for so long, was impossible... the pain was simply unimaginable.  
  
"It's not your fault, [i]ma Foi[/i]," he declared insistently, lying his head on her quavering shoulder, "It's not your--"  
  
At her last word, the man stopped dead in his actions. The warm blue color of his kind eyes instantaneously hardened to a bitter grey.  
  
"Eddie?"  
  
The word itself was spoken harshly, and flicked off Orlando's tongue with a crisp bitterness like that of a freshly sharpened knife. He had never liked that man completely, never trusted him completely, and now his instincts were finally being proved right. If only he had listened to them!  
  
Questions flooded his mind. Why had Eddie been involved? What did he have to gain? How long had he been conspiring with Bridget? For what reason had he acted so nice? Simultaneously, unproved conjectors did the same. Eddie [i]was[/i] a scumbag and it was he who had inflicted such wounds upon Orlando's darling Faithe.  
  
Anger and rage boiled within the man, but those feelings remained somewhat well hidden. Orlando wasn't one quick to fury, but when someone he cared about had been hurt by the whim of another... Things were impossible to predict.  
  
"He did this to you," Orlando said, half stating the fact and half asking as he delicately lifted Faithe's head out of her hands and ran his fingers lightly overtop of her wounds, first running across her face and then down to her wrist.  
  
His eyes were filled with emotion, radiating the fact that seeing Faithe like this was something he wanted never to experience again.  
  
Faithe knew Orlando was trying to calm her down, and under most other upsetting circumstances, the hugging and the soothing words would have made an impact on her. However, not now, and not with this situation. Everything that had happened, every feeling that had coursed through her since that horrible night Kaytlin had been taken had been buried within the depths of Faithe's mind. Jake had tried to pry her open and talk openly about what had happened that night, but she refused.  
  
Whether it was because she couldn't, or wouldn't Faithe didn't know herself. She felt as if she had let Kayte down, let Jake down, let everybody down. I should have been stronger...I should have gone back there first...I should have stayed downstairs with Jake and kept Kayte down there... Every moment she was awake, all Faithe could think about was how the outcome could have been different had she acted differently.  
  
As he lifted her head from her hands, she tried to avert her gaze, but couldn't. Hearing his voice, as if for the first time in the past few minutes, her bottom lip quivered faintly. Biting her bottom lip to keep her emotions from betraying her too much, Faithe nodded slowly. Allowing her gaze to drop to where his hand rested on her wrist.  
  
Though being physically close to him, with his arms around her and her face buried in her chest, brought her some sense of protection, she didn't feel the solace being close to him normally carried. Continuing to let her tears run free in a river down her cheeks, Faithe shook her head. "How could I have ever trusted him? Even if it wasn't that much, how could I have trusted him at all? I can't believe he and Bridget..." Sitting up, she shook her head, her eyes still down on the dock.  
  
"They both want something, and they knew exactly how to get it." Closing her eyes, she shook her head again. "It isn't fair. Not to Kayte. Not in the least." Her voice had calmed down by now, though it still trembled immensely, and her voice was soft. " I didn't even know Eddie knew how to do half the things he did...the spells..." Wincing at the memory, she laid her head back on his chest, sniffling.  
  
Jake didn't know about the Cruciatus Curse, and Faithe hadn't volunteered the information. Of all the physical pain she had felt in her life, nothing ever remotely came close to the anguish she had felt during those few minutes. Every time she had fallen asleep the past week, she had awaken in a cold sweat from the memory. Eddie's malicious laughing, the red flash, all of it. He had been merciless when it had come to her, and she knew she'd never forget it. Her body shuddered involuntarily as the recollection flashed in front of her eyes as if it were a slideshow.  
  
((Thanks for being worried and whatnot. Yeah, so after I put that last away message up, I went to lay down on my bed for a few minutes, but never ended up getting back up... until 10:05am. :oP))  
  
While Faithe continued sobbing and shaking into him, Orlando felt fully desolate. He could think of nothing else that would make the situation even the slightest bit better, and knew that that was because there wasn't a single thing that held that power... besides getting Kayte back. Continuing to gnaw on his tongue, he simply kept holding her close to him, listening to the few words that escaped her trembling lips. They were fragmented and erratic in a sense, but how else could he have expected them to be? Faithe was literally forlorn, and her mind couldn't possibly be thought to be able to speak clearly with all those emotions clouding it. Not being as close to Kayte as Faithe, Orlando knew his feelings couldn't have even amounted to an eighth of hers... and she had gone through this torment for an entire week- alone.  
  
That was certainly was aggravated Orlando most about the situation: the fact that Faithe had had to deal with all the pain (physicaly, emotional and mental) alone for the past week. He didn't know Bridget, but he knew Eddie, and how repulsing the man could be; that side of him had shown itself the night he had been drunk. Mentally flashing back, Orlando shut his eyes, wondering what horrors might have happened if he hadn't been there. Opening his eyes, he looked down at Faithe's tiny, trembling figure within his arms and had to purse his lips tightly together to keep from crying.  
  
How could anyone do anything so hurtful? He had seen it with his own eyes that Eddie had found Faithe attractive, and was jealous of himself, but, if he cared that much about her-- maybe it was that he [i]didn't[/i] care about her, Orlando reasoned. It fit, after all, especially in regards to that lingering comment Eddie's voice said over and over in his mind regarding the kiss after the song: "if you're brave enough." At the time, Orlando had blown it off, not even considering what malicious insinuation the man might have meant, but now he realized what type of a person Eddie truly was and found himself completely repulsed. He didn't have regard for emotions in the slightest, only desires. He didn't even want Faithe to love him, but rather only wanted Faithe. Angered and enraged by the disrespect innate to his new characterization of Eddie Polazzo, Orlando made a sort of frustrated groan/sigh as he shook his head.  
  
Letting Faithe continue, as she buried her head into his chest, and getting whatever little bits of information he could from her hushed exclamations, Orlando closed his eyes for a moment. There was too much going on right now for his mind to form coherent thoughts. If Faithe's head wouldn't have been buried into his chest, she would have seen it- that frighteningly blank, vacant stare upon his face. Although he was elated that she was talking to him, telling him everything, he couldn't help but find himself at a loss.  
  
As she sat up, shifting her body upon Orlando's, the man's eyes opened, hoping to meet Faithe's gaze, yet her eyes were still cast down to the dock. Resuming gnawing on his tongue, he listened in silence, until her voice trailed off and he was allowed an opportunity for an injection. Placing a hand upon her chin, he guided her face towards his, hoping that her eyes would follow.  
  
"Look at me," he implored quietly, "You've nearly grown up with him, and that's why you trusted him, Faithe. It's not your fault he's a manipulator..."  
  
His eyes grew warm as they gazed at hers (whether or not her eyes were gazing back... *shrugs*), and his arms loosened the slightest bit around her body. Almost wishing he was a violent man, Orlando wondered how exactly to repay Eddie for causing Faithe, and Jake, so much anguish. Death, apart from being something Orlando himself would never consider doing, was too simple, too much of an easy way out. There had to be something, a sweeter revenge...  
  
[quote]"They both want something, and they knew exactly how to get it."[/quote]  
  
Having his pensive reverie interrupted by Faithe's voice, Orlando's fingers, which were softly stroking her cheek, stopped. [i]'Bridget wanted Kayte, no doubt, but what did Eddie have to gain by--'[/i] The man's mind stopped short and his entire body froze as the most vile, abhorent thought entered his mind. Eddie didn't love Faithe, he wanted Faithe, and if... [i]'No,'[/i]he told himself, [i]'Faithe would have said something...'[/i] Satisfied for the moment that the unthinkable hadn't happened, but still shook up over having had the thought cross his mind, Orlando's arms resumed their secure position around Faithe's body, pressing her body lightly against his own.  
  
Nodding in agreement with her next remark, Orlando gently laid his head upon Faithe's shoulder, just to be closer to her. If such a thing was possible. Noting that she her voice had calmed itself, but not completely, the gnawing of his tongue abated and he planted a single, soft kiss upon her neck. Things were calm for a moment, but only a moment.  
  
Nearly jolting his head up, off her shoulder at the mention of Eddie's inflicted tortures, a vision of the man savagely beating Faithe flashed through his mind, accompanied by a similar one of his father beating him. until the word "spells" passed through the young woman's lips. Until that point, Orlando had thought Eddie had physically abused Faithe, punching her, kicking her, hitting her. Now that he knew the man had used magic, though..  
  
His grip on her tightened as a small, hurt gasp escaped his lips as though he could feel her pain. There was an infinite number of painful spells that he might have cast on her, included in that list was the unforgivable Cruciatus Curse, and, not having to consider it for more than a second, Orlando knew he had used it upon her, the shudder that ran through her body as she pressed herself against him confirmed it.  
  
"Oh, Faithe." he whispered, wrapping his arms completely around her body and weaving his hands into her wet tresses, "I wish there was something I could say to make it all go away, but I know there's not.."  
  
In that moment, a terrifying thought crossed his mind: what if Eddie was using the same spell on Kayte? The thought of an innocent little girl being subjected to such a monstrosity was sordid. Pushing it out of his mind- almost suppressing the thought-, he cradled Faithe in his arms a little longer. Casting a glance at the sky, he sighed mentally. There was so much that the two had shared that evening, and yet still so much that they had to sort through.  
  
"We're going to get Kayte back," he repeated, quietly whispering it into her ear.  
  
He wanted to go right then, but he knew that waiting until morning would be better. After all, what would he do? To just start searching the city for the girl would be worthless. They would be better off using magic, as Orlando had been trying to before falling asleep that evening. He hadn't had much luck, but, then again, searching an entire world for one five-year- old girl with no possessions of hers to aid the search was nearly impossible. Perhaps, now that he knew who had taken her, he would have better luck. And then, maybe he could somehow enchant Faithe's necklace that she shared with Kayte to provide some help.  
  
((Um, yeah, so this part can be changed if you wanted to keep them at the dock awhile longer, or just don't like this direction. Let me know, 'cause I understand that it is a little "iffy"))  
  
"Tomorrow, though," he added softly, "Starting now won't help. You're exhausted in every possible way, and I'm not much better."  
  
It was odd how calm Orlando seemed right then, but, truly, he was half putting up a strong front, just to keep himself able to support Faithe. The words that came from his lips were true, though, and he knew that. Still, if Faithe hadn't been in the state she was, it's certain that Orlando wouldn't have ever been that calm. She needed him, and he swore never to let her down again.  
  
"Can I take you to bed?" he asked in a whisper, tilting his head to look at her as best he could.  
  
Her watery eyes lifted to his when he guided her face up. Looking into his eyes, it was all she could do to keep her gaze from dropping. Shaking her head, Faithe bit her bottom lip hard, "It doesn't matter how long I've known him, I knew he was bad news." Shrugging she finally did allow her gaze to drop to dock once more. As soon as his arms loosened around her, she snuggled into him more, almost afraid to be seperated from him, even if it was only by a few inches. She couldn't deny the comfort he brought when he pulled her closer than she already was towards him.  
  
Hearing his whispers in her ear, her eyes closed as tears continued to slip gently down her cheek. Raising her face to look at him, there was a small look of doubt in her eyes, "How can we get her back? We don't know where she is. Eddie and Bridget can both apparate, which means they could be anywhere. All Bridget wants is money..." Letting out an aggitated sigh, her head dropped back down as she burrowed her face into his chest.  
  
Faithe hated this feeling of weakness, of insurpassible helplessness. All throughout her life Faithe has always been very strong willed and independent. Able to get through almost every problem that had ever come her way, feeling needy and clingy was new to her. Yet, with Orlando, she didn't have that feeling of being weak. With him holding her so closely, and being so strong for her, she felt that it was, indeed, all right for her to not always be strong.  
  
Something seemed to click inside of her head as the two sat there on the dock, basking in each other's presence, even if the situations weren't ideal. There was a feeling of completeness that ensued her little outburst, not because she had allowed even the slightest bit of her emtions that had been bottled up out, but because of who was with her, comforting her. Orlando would always be there when she needed him, and even when she didn't think she needed him, she knew he'd still be there.  
  
The idea of even being seperated him during the swim back to shore sent a tremor through her body, nonetheless the thought of not seeing him until the morning. Even then, they couldn't be sure that they would have some time alone since they were back at school. They couldn't just openly walk up to each other and spend an entire day together without drawing any attention to themselves. At his offer to see her off to bed, Faithe wrapped her arms around his middle as she turned her head sideways on his chest.  
  
"I don't want to be seperated from you."  
  
Seeing the doubt and uncertainty in Faithe's soft brown eyes, Orlando tried as best he could to remain optimistic. By nature, he was an idealist, so it wasn't too difficult for him. Growing up how he did, seeing the best side of things was all he could do not to become an angry, bitter child. Her words were rays of light into a dark room though, not quite dispelling the myth of the Boogeyman, but rather casting shadows across the mystery, which could very well be either a true horror or a simple manifestation of one's thoughts. She was right in the fact that Bridget and Eddie could apparate anywhere, but the Ministry could track that, couldn't they? And if they could be tracked, Orlando could surely do it. Apart from Astronomy, charms were the man's passion.  
  
"Magic," he replied, whispering softly, "There has to be some sort of locating spell, and, when we find it, we'll do it."  
  
At the mention of Bridget's name, Orlando shook his head. Money was worthless; didn't the woman understand that? It may bring objects, but magic could do the same. There wasn't a single thing that money, in Orlando's mind, was worth kidnapping a child for. But, of course, not everyone's mind worked like his did. Too bad; if that were so, the world would be quite a pleasant place to live in.  
  
Noticing she failed to mention what, exactly, Eddie was after by kidnapping Kayte only added wood to the already burning fire of rage inside the man. He knew was Eddie wanted, and was sickened by the thought. Holding Faithe tightly against him as she, once more, nestled her head against his bare chest, he felt the slightest sense of usefulness. Although he may not have been able to do anything to save her from the pain, he was at least protecting her at that very moment.  
  
Feeling her arms lock themselves around his own body, Orlando's eyes held somewhat of a quizzical look as they met Faithe's, wondering why she seemed so nervous at his offer. However, her words cleared up that misunderstanding quickly, and a small smile crossed his face as he leant down and kissed her forehead gently. It was almost adorable how naïve Faithe could be at times, thinking that all he was going to take her back to her own bed, or even take another dip into the water for that matter.  
  
"You think I do?" he asked softly, shaking he head to show he wasn't serious. "I haven't felt your skin on mine, held you in my arms or even been so close to you in much too long; don't even think for a moment I'd let you go now. You need me now, [I]ma Foi[/I], and I don't have the slightest intention of letting you go for a long, long time.. if ever."  
  
Sitting up a bit, his eyes flitted across the lake to the dock. He knew that he really ought to go back over there and retrieve their shed clothing articles. They were in plain sight, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that they'd be found by morning, and several stories would begin to circulate around campus about them. not to mention the fact that Faithe probably wanted her pants. Still, he didn't want to unwrap his arms from around her for even a moment to pick them up. Mentally making a note to "Accio" the clothes to them once they were safely in his room, Orlando decided against making the pit stop at the dock.  
  
"Tomorrow's Saturday," he whispered into her ear, "We've got the whole weekend to look for Kayte."  
  
Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep breath and pressed Faithe's body against his own, apparating them both back to his tiny apartment-like habitat, and landing upon the floor. Opening his eyes as he felt the hard, wooden floor beneath him, his arms remained around Faithe as he shifted himself into a standing position while simultaneously reallocating her small body into that familiar position within his arms so that he could carry her. Slowly walking to the bedroom, he pulled back the top sheet and moved to set her down upon the bed, but stopped. Looking at her, a nervous grin overcame his face as his hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck.  
  
"Can't imagine you want to sleep in wet clothes like that." he said quietly, with a slight laugh creeping into his voice, "Lemme find you some clothes."  
  
Very reluctantly relinquishing his grasp upon her and setting her down on the bed, he rummaged through the cluttered mess atop his dresser and procured a gray T-shirt, some black cotton pants not too unlike hospital scrubs, and a pair of peculiarly neatly folded navy blue cotton PJ pants, which looked like that hadn't been used in awhile. Walking back, he handed the first two items to her, saving the latter for himself.  
  
"Here," he said, "I know they'll be about five sizes too big, but the pants have a drawstring, so."  
  
Trailing off, he shrugged and offered her a grin.  
  
((Ack! Don't kill me! I had every intention of replying this morning before I left, but I got a call saying I didn't have to go in. So, I fell back to sleep.))  
  
Sighing, she shook her head, "Jake has a friend in the Ministry who's been helping us with this. We haven't gone to the muggle police, but if we don't have her back soon, he's going to do it. If they can track apparations, we haven't heard about it yet." Joseph, who had gone to school with Jake had been working for the state-side branch of the Ministry, and he had been the first person Jake had called after Kayte and had been taken, and after Faithe had been taken to the hospital.  
  
Seeing his small smile, the left side of her mouth barely crooked up, as a pouting expression crossed her eyes. "Makin' fun of me..." Muttering loud enough for him to hear, but still speaking softly, her words came out with a relatively thick Texan accent accidentally. Closing her eyes gently as he continued to speak, the smile faded from her face. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her forehead against his chin, her eyes remaining closed.  
  
Starting to open her eyes, she quickly shut them again as they apparated. Her stomach tied in knots as it normally did when they apparated. Hopefully this whole apparation 'sickness' thing only happens because I'm not the one doing the apparating. If not, then I'm going to be in trouble when I have to learn how to apparate... She had started to wiggle out of his arms so they could stand up, but his arms remained around her as he shifted and stood.  
  
Keeping her arms around his neck, Faithe rested her head on his shoulder lightly as he walked toward the bed. Sitting up straighter when he leaned over, her arms tightened when he ended up holding her with only one arm. The same thought crossed her mind just as he vocalized the idea of sleeping in wet clothes. Now that they were inside, she was starting to shiver slightly. Standing up, she walked over to him as he sorted through the clothes and handed her the gray t-shirt and the black pants.  
  
"Don't forget about the rest of our stuff out by the lake. I would really hate having to explain that." Winking, she walked to the opposite side of the bed, heading for the bathroom. Raising her eyebrow at herself, she shook her head. "Where am I going? I'm wearing a bathing suit." Talking more to herself than to him, she shook her head. Still facing the opposite wall, her back to Orlando, she slipped on the pants. Pulling the drawstring to its tightest fit, she tied the string. Letting go of the pants, she looked down and laughed. Even with the drawstring, the pants were still massive on her. The waistline dipped to just below the top of her bathing suit bottom, which was already low on her hips.  
  
Turning around, she raised her eyebrows at him, an amused expression on her face, "I feel like a clown." The pant legs weren't much better, but they weren't as amusing as the waistline of the black pants. Shaking her head, she stuck her tongue out at him. Turning around once more, she slipped the tank top off and shook out the shirt. Had she been in her right mind, Faithe most likely wouldn't have had her back towards Orlando during this move.  
  
Faithe was overly self-conscious about her back, namely because of the six, very visible, scars that had been left from the broom accident. There were two horizontally parallel to one another two inches below her neck, two horizontally parallel with one another at the bottom of her spine, and one along her left shoulder blade and one one the right side of her spine. The four along her spine had been made during surgery, and the other two were simply from the fall. Ever since then, anytime Faithe was in a bathing suit, there was always a shirt over the top, and anytime she bought a shirt or tank top, the first thing she looked at was whether or not it covered everything.  
  
However, her mind was so frazzled at this moment, she didn't even stop to think about it as she slipped the shirt over the bathing suit top. Pulling her hair out of the neckline, she turned around to face Orlando. The shirt was pretty large on her as well, covering the waistline of the pants. Wincing, she offered him an amused grin, "I look...like your clothes swallowed me." Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "It amazes me how you can make French toast batter disappear, but you can't dry sopping wet clothing."  
  
((I got a little carried away. Surry))  
  
Letting his lips slump back into a frustrated frown, Orlando sighed. If Jake had a Ministry-working friend and he hadn't been able to help much, there wasn't a very good chance at all that Orlando, intelligent as he was, would be able to do anything to help Kayte. Still, he couldn't let Faithe see his doubt. If she saw it, then he couldn't hold out much hope of her calming down, and, especially given the situation, that was something the young woman needed to do. She had no doubt been stressed out the past two weeks, a cause of a plethora of heinous events, wearing away at her resolve like crashing waves of water beating down upon a rock cliff, slowly eroding it away. Putting on a better face, he shook his head.  
  
"We'll do something," he said quietly, "We'll get her back."  
  
As he whispered those words, the man truly believed that they had a shot at executing such a miracle. They would get up the next morning, pour over the books that covered his bed, and find a spell that would make everything better. Kayte would return safely, and Bridget and Eddie would be forever subjected to eternal torment by whatever means were seen fit. Everything would be as it should, and nothing would ever hurt his perfect little family again. There was a part of his mind that asked what would happen if Kayte never returned, or, returned forever scarred in some unimaginable way. Incapable of such thoughts, he quickly silenced the nagging voice.  
  
[quote]"Makin' fun of me."[/quote]  
  
"Mm-hmm," he murmured with a nod, allowing a slight smile to cross his face prompted by the heavy drawl in her voice. As she brought her forehead close to him, he kissed it lightly before allowing her to lay it against his scruffily bearded chin.  
  
"Just 'cause I love you, though."  
  
Laughing as she mentioned their discarded clothing, Orlando shook his head. Indeed, the stories that would circulate would be most entertaining.  
  
"Don't worry," he replied with a grin, walking around the bed and poking her as he passed her. "I wouldn't." Leaning down, he reached for the top drawer of his nightstand to obtain his wand. Opening it, his eyes were faced with the sight of that jet-black velvet box, prompting him to pluck his wand out more than quickly and slam the drawer shut, not wanting Faithe to see the small box for obvious reasons, of course.  
  
Wand in hand, he moseyed over to the window and pushed it open. Pointing his wand in the direction of the lake, the man mustered up whatever strength he had left after the night and tried to evoke the clothing.  
  
"Accio," he said, with a rather distinct undertone to his voice. After a moment of concentration, the two derelict pieces of fabric landed in a heap next to his feet. Satisfied, he turned back to her, offering a proud beam. "Done and done."  
  
Reverting his attention to Faithe, who, at that moment, was moving towards the door, he gave her a curious glance as she stopped and turned back to the other wall. Grinning, he shrugged his shoulders as she faced away from him and set his wand back atop the nightstand as he flung the navy pants over his arm. Subconsciously almost, his eyes wandered along her slender frame, from the peak of her head down her back, as far as he could see. His face softened and a warm smile spread itself across his face like butter over a warm piece of bread.  
  
As she turned to face him, the man took a moment to break out of his trance. Eventually though, after not more than a moment, his dazed/enchanted look thawed into a broad grin. Although Faithe might have looked absolutely ridiculous to anyone else, Orlando found her irresistibly attractive in his clothes, which was evident by the low moaning noise that rumbled in his throat. Shaking his head, he smiled at her.  
  
"Maybe so, but you look incredibly sexy."  
  
Simply smiling at her as she stuck her tongue at him, Orlando's face radiated nothing but wonder until the small, white tank top seemingly lifted itself off of her body, exposing her back. Feeling a soft blush in his cheeks rise up, he moved to turn his head away from her, solely for modesty's sake. True, she was still clad in her swimsuit top, but Orlando didn't feel right looking at her in it, as though he wasn't supposed to see even her bare back yet. But, on their way towards the other wall, his eyes caught sight of an intricate pattern of lines running across her back, shimmering with a silver sort of glow in the moonlight, and he found it impossible to look away.  
  
A curious stare enveloped his eyes and his head tilted inquisitively, just staring up and down her back, completely unable to avert his gaze at all. Instantly, he knew they were scars; that was an obvious fact. Yet, he knew not what had caused them. The first thought that entered his mind was that Eddie had inflicted them upon her, but he had enough logic to know such wounds wouldn't have scarred over in such a short period of time. No, they were from a long time ago. If the man had thought about it for a while, he probably would have figured out what horror had left such a tangible memory ingrained in the soft skin of her back, but Faithe had turned around and cut his thoughts short with her grin.  
  
He was about to ask her about the scars, but didn't think this was the time for such a question. Thinking about the earlier events- specifically, how Faithe had failed to remove her tank top at the lake- he came to the conclusion that the markings weren't exactly something Faithe wanted to remember, and, given the current situation, he wasn't about to rile her up again just as he had finally calmed her down to the point she was at now. There were too many other things going on. No, that question would have to wait.  
  
Wiping the quizzically concerned expression off of his face, and hoping that he had done so soon enough, he returned Faithe's grin with a nod. His clothes had most certainly engulfed the young woman's petite figure, but it didn't matter to him; her beauty was still unsurpassable.  
  
Feeling her arms around his neck, Orlando's found their way around her slender waist, getting bunched up in the excess fabric of the shirt as they did and prompting a small laugh to come from his lips. As her lips gently caressed his cheek, the man's eyes got a sort of dreamy sparkle in them, and his fingers entangled themselves together, joining his hands along the bottom of her spine. Chuckling slightly at her remark, he shook his head and kissed her forehead lightly.  
  
"Haven't you ever heard of the 'Conservation of Mass Law'?" Orlando asked with a laugh. "I didn't make it disappear, only moved it all back to the bowl in the kitchen with a sort of apparation spell. Taking a few steps, and guiding her backwards, he moved the pair towards the bed as he continued talking.  
  
"Drying clothes would require too much heat, even if the heat of vaporization for water is only 4.184 joules." he mused, lifting Faithe up a few inches and setting her down upon the bed. To one who didn't know him, it would appear like he was trying to throw in as many random scientific terms as possible, but that was simply how the man spoke. "And I don't exactly see you whipping out your wand, Miss Cunningham."  
  
After allowing himself a moment to merely smirk at her, he unenthusiastically detangled his fingers and slowly unwound his arms from around her waist, running his hands fully along her back and around her sides until there was no where else for them to roam, and, only then, did he let his hands fall. Reaching behind him, he took her hands in his and lifted them up and over his head. Ducking under her embrace, he offered an apologetic smile as he placed their hands in her lap, and then let go of them.  
  
"Just a minute," he whispered, holding up a finger, "If I don't get out of these wet shorts now, it's safe to say I'll end up sleeping in them tonight."  
  
Grasping the dark pajama pants in one hand, he winked at her. A small popping noise was heard, and the man vanished, only to re-appear not more than a minute later, clad in the pants, which, not more than a minute ago, had been in his hand.  
  
With a contented sort of sigh escaping his lips, the man walked the few steps to the bed and ran his fingers along her jawline as the slightest hint of a smile played upon his lips. Bending his knees, he gently kissed her cheek.  
  
"It's almost three in the morning," he whispered into her ear, "You ought to go to sleep."  
  
Resuming his full stature, he continued walking slowly around the end of the bed, around to the other side. Pulling back the sheet from that side, he sat down and slid over.  
  
As he did so, the words he had spoken to her just fourteen days ago echoed through his mind:  
  
'[I]I can promise you that tonight, at least, you will most definitely be falling asleep in its arms, with its fingers laced into your hair, your head resting against its chest, its head gently resting upon your own, and a soft, content smile upon your delightful lips, lighting up your beautiful face.[/I]'  
  
For a moment, a sorrowful sort of look appeared on his face as he recalled the fact that he hadn't ever fulfilled that promise, and the reason why. Still sitting, for the moment at least, he reached his arms out, wrapping around Faithe's shoulders from behind her and pulling her towards him. Better late than never.  
  
Searching his face so intently, it would have been nearly impossible for Faithe to miss the look of frustration on Orlando's face. She almost feared that his frustration seemed to deepen with defeat. The last thing she needed was for Orlando's spark of hope and resolve to burn out. Of course, she didn't want him to have to wear a mask about his anxiety, not with her.  
  
As his facial features softened, Faithe felt a surge of hope in her chest. Although his words came out a soft whisper, the compassion with which he spoke, accompanied by the heartfelt expression on his handsome face, made Faithe believe him. Searching his blue eyes intently, a warmth seemed to envelope every part of her.  
  
For the hundredth time that night, Faithe wondered how she had managed to get out of bed, and even open her eyes in the morning, for the past two weeks. The very thought of being away from him long enough to even use the bathroom made her chest contract, causing her to struggle with her breathing. She ahd missed everything about Orlando Lorenz, but could never capture just how much until she had been pulled into his embrace.  
  
Faithe knew that they would get Kayte back, but the prospect that had been playing inside her mind was at price would the five year old be returned to her family. Bridget had never wanted Kaytlin because she had an interest in getting to know her daughter, but merely because she wanted to spite Jake and Faithe.  
  
When they had found out that Bridget was pregnant, Jake learned to become more responsible than most teenage boys his age. Not only had he vowed to take care of their child, but when they were out of school, take care of Bridget just as well. As things worked out, Bridget wanted nothing to do with the baby or Jake after her pregnancy. When school was over with, Bridget left without a word. Not that it had made a difference to Kayte, who was only just turning three. Bridget had not played any part in raising Kaytlin.  
  
Which was why Bridget held so much disdain towards Faithe. Whether it was jealousy, because Faithe had played such an important role in Kaytlin's upbringing, or because Bridget loathed her because she was such a big part of Jake's life, was unknown to Faithe. Of course, Bridget's dislike for Faithe had never mattered...until now. Bridget not only wanted to hurt Jake, but Faithe as well. Which was why Bridget had gone to Eddie for help.  
  
Hearing the drawar slam shut, her eyebrows raised curiously. Staring at him inquisitvely, she simply shrugged, "Underwear drawer?" There was a hint of jovial amusement in the way the left side of her mouth crooked up in a smile. Her eyes continued to watch him as he brought their remaining articles of clothing so effortlessly into the room. A look of admiration crossed her face as he turned away from the window, that smile radiating the boyishness that Faithe knew the grown man still had.  
  
A jittery flutter moved in her stomach as the word 'sexy' rolled off his tongue. Feeling her face turn bright red with a blush, she shook her head modestly as her eyes fell to the floor. A bashful smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned around.  
  
((This is after she changed her shirt...))  
  
Furrowing her eyebrows in curiosity, her head tilted to the side as she faced him. Silently pondering what the look of pensive confusion on his face was about, her left eyebrow crooked up. She was tempted to ask him what was on his mind, but decided against her inquiry as he nodded.  
  
Hearing the small laugh from him, her features warmed over a heartfelt smile crossed her face. The sound of happiness eminating from Orlando moved Faithe in such a way she thought she was about to cry. The past two weeks had been filled with emptiness, heartache, and grief. Being able to hear the richness of Orlando's laugh, no matter how small it may have been, was the sweetest sound in the world to her.  
  
Grinning, her eyes closed as hisl ips left a tingling sensation on her forehead. Wrinkling her nose, she stuck the tip of her tongue out at him. Pretending to shoot him a look of arrogance, "Well, why didn't you just apparate the water back to the lake?" There was simplicity to her voice, suggesting that her form of action would have been the obvious thing to do. However, her brown eyes clearly said that she was just giving him a hard time for the fun of it.  
  
As the feeling of weightlessness encompassed her, a squeal escaped her lips as he lifted her off her feet and sat her down on the bed. Wincing slightly, she offered a sheepish grin.  
  
"That's because, Professor Lorenz, my awnd is currently poking me in my rhombus." Shifting to the side, she pulled the wand out from underneath her.  
  
A small shiver ran through her spine as his hands ran along her back and her sides. Closing her eyes, her body seemed to melt in his warmth. Even after his hands had dropped, her eyes remained closed for a moment longer as a small pouty whien escaped. Opening her eyes slowly, she poked her bottom lip out and nodded. Jumping slightly as the popping noise echoed in the silence, Faithe smiled as he dispeared. Lazy bones...less than ten feet to the bathroom, and he can't take the time to walk... Giggline to herself, she shook her head. Too adorable...  
  
When Orlando reappeared, Faithe almost screamed he startled her so much. As his fingers caressed her jawline, she took a deep breath, her eyes drooping from content. A tired smile appeared on her face as his lips touched her skin. At the mention of the late hour, a small yawn escaped her, accompanied by a tiny squeak. Nodding, she rubbed her eyes, "As should you. I think this is the earliest I've tried to go to bed in two weeks." Her eyes followed him as he strode towards the other side of the bed.  
  
As his arms wrapped around her, a small whimper escaped her as his hand pressed the bruise on her collar bone. Shifting slightly so his hand was scooted over, she turned and gave him a weak, tired smile. With her back pressed against his front, she let out another sigh, her eyes closing as her physique seemed to melt into his.  
  
Turning slightly so she was in more of a cradle position, her eyes drank in the sight that she had longed to look at for fourteen days. 336 hours... Her eyes began to slowly droop as she felt secure in his arms. For the first time in a week, she felt safe enough to allow herself to fall asleep.  
  
Meeting her gaze after he had slammed the nightstand drawer closed, Orlando's face wore the most peculiar look. And, after hearing her question, the peculiarity only increased.  
  
"Um. yeah," he answered slowly, not wanting to draw too much attention to the drawer. If she found the ring, it'd all be over. He had the perfect idea of how to propose to her, but this wasn't the time. He wanted everything to be perfect, and one of the requirements for perfection was school not being in session. After she had graduated, after news of his comet had died down, after Kayte was safe and well enough to be their flower girl. There were too many affairs that had to be put in order before he could even bring up such a thing. He wasn't worried, though; the time would come, and, when it did, he would seize the day.  
  
"Why didn't I just 'apparate the water back to the lake'?" Orlando repeated sarcastically, as if such a thing was impossible. In fact, he probably could have done that, but liquids were much harder to apparate than solids, plus there was just too much water.  
  
"Because," he replied, in a tone whose sarcastic bluntness rivaled that of Faithe's, "the lake already has enough water."  
  
[quote]"That's because, Professor Lorenz, my wand is currently poking me in my rhombus." [/quote]  
  
At the word "rhombus", which Orlando was accustomed to hearing only in a geometric sense, another peculiar look distorted his face, raising his eyebrows and shifting his lips as though he had just tasted something unpleasant. As she procured her wand from, seemingly, nowhere, confusion swept over his face, followed by a slight afterthought of something vaguely resembling horror.  
  
"You obviously weren't using the parallelogram definition for rhombus." he said quietly, "But I don't think I ought to ask what you did mean by it."  
  
[quote]"As should you. I think this is the earliest I've tried to go to bed in two weeks." [/quote]  
  
Hearing Faithe say that, Orlando's worrying resumed. Poor girl. so overwhelmed with things that she couldn't sleep at night. He, himself, hadn't ever [I]tried[/I] to go to sleep in the past two weeks, but, somehow, had always ended up doing so. Sighing mentally, his lips pursed themselves together sorrowfully.  
  
"[I]You should have come to me, then[/I]," he wanted to tell her. Although he couldn't have eased her fears or done anything too constructive, he would have gladly offered himself as someone she could talk to. If she wanted to talk, he would listen; if she wanted to be quiet, he'd hold her in his arms; and, if she needed a shoulder to cry on, he'd be more than happy to offer her one of his. He knew why she hadn't come, though, and, thus, couldn't make himself tell her that she ought to have.  
  
Hearing her whimper, the man cringed a bit, knowing he'd hit a bruise. He would have tried to shift his hands, but she was already moving herself, and he figured she knew best where his hands ought to go. Feeling her lean against his body, it was as though he had been a puzzle before, missing half the pieces, yet, as she fit herself against him, the puzzle was completed.  
  
Lacing his fingers through her hair and resting his head upon her own, he reluctantly unwound an arm from around her to pull the thin sheet atop the two of them, shaking it lightly to rid it of the remaining books that still sat atop it. Once done, he rewrapped his arm around her, smiling ever so softly as she fell asleep with a small, content smile upon her delightful lips, lighting up her beautiful face.  
  
At some point not long after that, Orlando's own eyes began to droop until they finally closed. Falling asleep, a feeling of satisfaction that had been absent from his body for fourteen days reappeared, manifesting itself in the form of a small, content smile upon the man's own lips.  
  
"That makes sense. Why put water where it's plentiful when you have a nice dry room right here." Grinning, she winked at him, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly. Staring at him, the left side of her mouth upturned in a mischievous smile. It amazed her how she'd smiled and laughed more in the past hour than in the past two weeks combined. It didn't surprise her though. Not with Orlando around. There was always this indescribable joy inside of her, even when things seemed to be at the lowest turning point.  
  
Laughing at his utterly adorable confusion, she listened to him with an amused smile. Closing her eyes, she laughed softly, shaking her head.  
  
"My wand was sticking me in my tushy because I left it on your bed when we left." The amusement that played in her eyes was only heightened by the air in her voice, but she was staring at him with such an intense look of adoration.  
  
Falling asleep in his arms, Faithe felt more than content. There was a sense of safety, of protection that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that surrounded her. Not only within the boundaries of the school, but simply within this very room. Though Faithe would do anything to keep her troubles reaching Orlando, simply knowing that he was there, and knowing he would keep her safe if the need arose, made her feel calm. Every time she had closed her eyes since that past Friday, all she could see was Eddie's malicious smile, the pleasure radiating from his eyes how much pleasure he was taking in tormenting her.  
  
As she lay there in his arms, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat sang her to sleep. Her breathing became in sync with the steady rise and fall of his chest as the two lay there. There was an inner warmth that seemed to spread inside of her as she snuggled deeper into his arms.  
  
Two hours after the two had laid there, Faithe began to turn in her sleep. Her eyebrows had furrowed together in a panged expression as she rolled to the other side of the bed. The look of contentment had disappeared as the young woman's nightmares flooded her mind.  
  
Waking with a start, she jolted out of sleep, whimpering softly. Sitting up, her breathing had become irregular and slightly erratic. Having broken out in a cold sweat, and her body trembling viciously, she buried her face in her hands. Weeping quietly, she stood up and walked towards the couch. The last thing she wanted to do was wake Orlando up with her crying. She had put the man through enough of her emotional strife for one night. Sitting down on the couch, she hugged her knees tightly for comfort. Burying her face in her knees, she continued to let the tears flow down her cheeks in a silent lament.  
  
"Of course."  
  
The words were quiet and slightly unenthused as Orlando replied. 'So, "rhombus" is another word for "tushy".' he thought to himself, making a mental note.  
  
Sleeping soundly, or at least as soundly as he could with Kayte still being out there alone, Orlando felt somewhat content. Faithe was back where she belonged- safe in his arms- and with her sleeping in his embrace, he at last felt like it was alright to sleep. No nightmares came to him as he slept, only pleasant visions of himself carrying Kayte upon his shoulders as he walked hand-in-hand with Faithe throughout the world.  
  
As she rolled away, his arms, frozen around her protectively, offered resistance, but it wasn't enough to prevent her from escaping his hold. With the warmth of her body absent from his bare chest, the cool summer air brushed against it, chilling him slightly. Feeling this, he shifted, but wasn't quite conscious enough to do anything more. Yet, his ears soon picked up the quiet whimpering and the sound of her rapid breathing. It took him a moment, but the man did eventually wake.  
  
Realizing Faithe was no longer in his arms, he reached out to the other side of the bed. Feeling nothing but a rumpled sheet, he sat up and quickly glanced around.  
  
"Faithe?" he called into the darkness. Beginning to panic that something had happened to the young woman while he had been sleeping, he leapt from his bed and ran to the door. Once there, he became more aware of the quiet crying coming from the main room of the tiny dormitory. Faithe's crying.  
  
It sounded mournful and upset, but not pained, thereby curing Orlando of the thought Bridget or Eddie had come into his room and hurt her. Cracking the door open just slightly, his blue eyes peered over the frame's edge, searching his habitation for Faithe. Spotting a few strands of hair over the top of the couch, he teeth instinctively began gnawing upon his tongue as he approached her.  
  
She looked like a broken porcelain doll like that; hugging her knees to her chest, with her head buried in them, bruised, battered, and sobbing quietly. It broke Orlando's heart, because he knew that he couldn't fix it. In spite of his superiority in the ways of wandwork, there wasn't a spell in any book of any library that could take this pain from her.  
  
Gradually he made his way around the side of the couch. Placing a hand upon its arm, he looked down at her for a moment, torn by her seemingly inconsolable state, as a mournful expression played upon his face. Slowly, he eased himself down onto the floor, kneeling in front of where she sat crumpled upon the couch. She'd obviously had a sort of nightmare; Orlando had had enough to know. Tenderly reaching his fingers up, he stroked her hair with one hand as the other wrapped around her back.  
  
"Oh, Faithe." he whispered quietly, leaning his head against hers.  
  
So embraced in her emotion, Faithe didn't hear the soft sounds of Orlando's feet on the floor. Of course, the door being closed was an attribute in the muffled sound. Hugging her knees tighter, she continued to allow the tears to fall down her cheeks. Despite the fact that Orlando's presence had gone unnoticed, she didn't jump when his hand touched her hair. Feeling his arm slide around her back, she lifted her head, her cheeks stained with tears.  
  
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face into his neck. Simply having him by her side brought a surge of comfort within her, comfort she had been searching for all week. Looking up at him, there was an apologetic expression in her eyes as she met his eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just..." Sighing, she shook her head soundlessly. Sitting up, she allowed her hands to drop in her lap, her eyes staring down at the couch cushion.  
  
"Everytime I fall asleep I relive it." Her voice was soft and trembling, but she was in much more control that she had been earlier. Closing her eyes, she swallowed with difficulty before opening her eyes. "I have that same feeling of dread...guilt. I see him holding me back from Kaytlin. I feel him hitting me and kicking me." Closing her eyes once more, she took in a deep breath. This was the first time she had opened up to this level about what had happened. Even though she had lost it out on the dock, this wasn't the same. Shaking her head, her eyes remained closed.  
  
"I see him slamming me against the wall, pulling out his wand. I feel that ineffable pain from that curse..." Allowing her words to fade away, Faithe slowly opened her eyes, but her gaze remained on the couch cushion. Shaking her head, a soft sigh escaped her lips. Finally averting her gaze to look into Orlando's brilliant blue eyes, her eyes searched his. "Most of all, I keep seeing the look of confused desperation on a five year old's face."  
  
((This sucks. You deserved better. I'm in a rut, I guess :oP Um, I won't be on this afternoon for a bit; my dad's coming back from Germany and I've gotta pick him up from the airport))  
  
At the sight of Faithe's tear-covered face, the man felt guilt stab at him. Since he had found out about Kayte's kidnapping, his mind had gradually been building up a scenario, and, the more he thought about it, the guiltier he felt. He could have prevented all of this. If he had been there, he could have taken on Bridget and Eddie. He could have protected Faithe and saved Kaytlin. If only he had been there. The truth was that the man had been planning on going to the show, but, given the current state of his relationship with Faithe, passed the opportunity up. If he hadn't let Demeter back in for that one single moment he did, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have hurt Faithe; he would have been there last weekend; he would have been there to help Faithe and save Kaytlin; and, right then, Kayte would be sleeping soundly in her own bed while Faithe slept curled beneath his arms in his. In his mind, it was simple; the fault was his.  
  
As her arms wrapped themselves around his neck and he felt her shaky, warm breath upon his neck, his own arms tightened themselves around her back. Pushing himself off the ground, he sat on the couch next to her, pulling her into his chest as a vacant expression began to contort his face. [I]'Look at what you've done..[/I]' his mind taunted him. [I]'She's apologizing to [/I]you[I]. You don't deserve her.[/I]'  
  
Shaking his head at her apology, he kissed the top of her forehead. His guilt wasn't her problem, and he wasn't about to further burden her with such. He knew she'd deny the truth and tell him he had no bearing on what had happened, and, with two remorseful people, there would be no strong one for the other to lean upon. He wouldn't voice his thoughts. Instead, he'd stay strong, for Faithe.  
  
"No," he whispered, "Don't apologize, sleep isn't more important than you. It's not like I could have slept without you in my arms anyways. I don't think it took me more than a minute to wake up once you left, did it?  
  
"You ought to have just woken me up right there in bed," he added with an odd sort of smile.  
  
Listening to every word she spoke intently, the man could almost visualize what had happened. His eyes closed, and he could envision Faithe's delicate body sprawled against the wall, held down by Eddie's hand, then jolting with each slap and each kick. Hearing her voice cease to speak, he re- opened his eyes and held her tightly against him; the action itself was more of an afterthought, as though by holding her now, he could protect her in some way.  
  
"Faithe," he whispered, so soft that it was almost inaudible, "this is [I]not[/I] your fault."  
  
'[I]It's mine.[/I]'  
  
As she spoke of the wand, a slight anger boiled up in Orlando's eyes, turning them a gray color. Eddie had definitely earned the man's hate. But, amidst that feeling of abhorrence, the man's own guilt still prevailed. If only he had been there.  
  
At her last words the man uttered a choked breath of his own as a vision of Kayte filled his own mind combined with Faithe's eyes finally meeting his own. A child was the embodiment of innocence, and Kayte was an angel. To wrong anything that pure was simply decadent.  
  
"I know," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her again and pressing her gently against him. "I know, Faithe.  
  
"I promise we'll get her back, and she'll be fine."  
  
His voice trailed off then. He wanted to believe that everything would work out like that. And, in some ways, he did believe it. Yet his obscured realism nagged at him, telling him that it wouldn't be that easy. Redemption couldn't be that easy. He may have won Faithe back, but the repercussions from his decision to be untrue to her for even that little moment were still abound. Until he had rectified every single problem his unfaithfulness had caused, he would still feel the guilt. It wouldn't be as easy as it had seemed.  
  
He hadn't anything else to say. There was nothing he could say to make it better, and each word that escaped his mouth was just another superfluous one. Until he had Kayte safe back in Faithe's arms, there was nothing he could do to help her. Still, he would try to calm the young woman in his arms, but he knew each attempt would only prove itself futile.  
  
"Everything'll be alright, Faithe."  
  
Shaking her head, a soft laugh escaped her lips at comment. Wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands, she looked up at him, "I didn't want to wake you up. You need sleep sweetie."  
  
She allowed herself to be pulled towards him, her face snuggling into his chest. Listening to his soft consolations, her eyes closed once more. Shaking her head softly, she laid her hand on his chest in front of hair face.  
  
"I know what they did wasn't my fault. I just...I feel so helpless Orlando. I hate that feeling..." It was also a feeling that Faithe wasn't familiar with. She was a fixer - anytime there was a problem she tried to be there, fixing it. Anytime problems had surfaced in the past that seemed too great for to deal with, she simply strove harder to make things turn out the way they were supposed to. This time, however, things were out of her reach, and there was only one way to fix it. The only problem with that is that Jake had forbidden her to do it.  
  
Feeling him pull her closer to him, she allowed her eyes to shut once more. She felt exhuasted, both emotionally and physically, now that she had allowed her emotions to creep out of her. This was how things had been working with her for the past week. She would be awake till all hours of the night, then fall asleep for a short period, wake up bawling, exert herself till she could hardly move, and then eventually drift back off for another hour or so. It had become a routine for the previous six nights, and she didn't know why she thought the seventh would be any different.  
  
Her body began to slowly relax as she laid in his arms, breathing once more in sync with his. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat still held a sense of contentment for her. A contentment that only Orlando could bring to her. Allowing the silence to envelope her, save the steady beating, Faithe felt her mind drifting off into sleep once more. It didn't take too long for the exhaustion in her body to overtake her into sleep, her body eventually relaxing completely in Orlando's arms.  
  
((Cute typo of the moment: "she laid her hand on his chest in front of [b]hair[/b] face" Hee hee hee.))  
  
As she spoke of feeling helpless, Orlando offered a silent nod. He completely understood what she was feeling. Like Faithe, Orlando had always been someone to rectify certain inequities rather than simply stand there and let them take their toll. With the man's knowledge and perseverance, there hadn't ever really been a problem, save emotional ones, that he couldn't fix. And, now, feeling that helplessness, as though there was nothing at all he could do to fight back against the pain. it was worse than the pain itself.  
  
Letting Faithe's eyes close themselves and her breathing once more synchronize itself with his own, Orlando arms loosened around her and a hand reached up to stroke the young woman's damp hair for a moment. So beautiful, so young, so innocent. She didn't deserve to feel the wrath of the world's anger any more than Kaytlin did. Yet, she was feeling it in its entirety and still wouldn't let it conquer her. The young woman never accepted defeat, but merely continued her endeavors to fight against complete subjugation however she could. and she had been fighting alone.  
  
Already that night had the thought passed through the man's mind, now it echoed once more, and he was reminded of how strong Faithe truly was. She had gotten through six nights and seven days of this torment completely alone, and now, even in his presence, was still fighting for her piece of mind.  
  
Feeling her body completely relax into his own, he finally noticed she was asleep and a small smile crossed his face. Perhaps, now, she could finally get some sleep- something she so desperately needed. He, on the other hand, had become too worked up to indulge himself in such a serenity. Plagued by guilt, worry and fear, sleep would have been impossible for him, even if he had desired it.  
  
Slowly, he shifted Faithe in his arms, taking great care not to wake nor injure the girl, and stood up. Leisurely walking back into the bedroom, he laid her gently upon the mattress, covering her with the sheet and planting a gentle kiss upon her forehead. Returning to the other side of the bed, he procured his wand from the top of the nightstand ((where I hope he left it)) and whispered a quick silencing charm over the room to prevent himself from waking her.  
  
Now that Faithe was taken care of, the man had business himself to attend to. Casually flitting his brilliantly blue eyes around the room, he searched the floor for a particular few of the books he had been musing over before he had fallen asleep for the first time but a few short hours ago. Finding them, he quietly gathered them in his arms and proceeded toward the main room of the dormitory, shutting the door on his way out.  
  
Laying them out across the wooden floor ((which I hope I didn't say was stone in another, previous post)), he, too, laid down, upon his stomach and, propping himself up with his elbow, began to thumb through them, searching for that one particular spell he had seen earlier. It had been a locating spell that would have worked quite nicely, had he had a piece of an object that the missing person had on their person, like a piece of fabric from a dress or something of the like. He hadn't had anything like that then and still didn't have exactly what the spell called for, but, perhaps the necklace Faithe had would work, after all, it was, in some way, part of something Kayte had on her. Finding what he was looking for, the man slid a piece of parchment between the pages as a sort of bookmark, then resumed skimming the rest of the text in hopes of another spell that might prove more useful.  
  
As his eyes surveyed them, his fingers flipped each page in turn, finding nothing of interest, save a basic charm that would enchant a muggle compass to point in the vague direction of the missing. Orlando did place another scrap of parchment on its page, but didn't really hold out much hope for it proving useful. Kayte could be anywhere in the world, and the chances of the charm being able to locate such a small body on a name alone weren't exactly great. The spell might have been worthwhile if he was looking for a particular student within Rosencrantz, but one little girl in the entire world? Impossible.  
  
Setting that book aside, his hand reached for another one, and a rather lengthly yawn escaped his lips. Although the man wasn't mentally craving sleep, physically, he most certainly was. Still pouring over his books, he gradually began to read the pages, but not comprehend them. His eyes merely flitted over the words, but their meanings went no further. By the stroke of six o'clock, barely an hour after he had begun, the man's face was buried in the sixth volume of [u]Rarely Useful Spells[/u] and he was fast asleep.  
  
Serenity wasn't the word Faithe would use when she had fallen asleep the past two weeks, but she was unconscious anyways. When Orlando stood, a small moan emitted from her throat as she was moved in her sleep. Snuggling her head into his chest, she remained asleep, though very light sleep. When he set her down, another objectionary moan could be heard, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. As Orlando bent down and kissed her forehead, her eyebrows relaxed, and Faithe looked peaceful, for a little while.  
  
Still sleeping horribly and having nightmares, Faithe awoke with a start. Looking over to her side, her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw that it was empty and she was alone. For a minute, as she sat up, she almost started to have a panic attack, but forced herself to calm down. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, a small shiver rippling through her body at the chill that was in the air. Looking at a nearby clock, it wasn't even six yet. Pulling a small throw blanket off the back of a chair, she wrapped it around her shoulders. ((Yeah, well...I'm g-moding his room.))  
  
Walking out, her eyes claimed a look of worry as she didn't spot any sign of Orlando. As she turned a corner, her foot hit the corner of a book. Looking down, a small, amused smile spread over her face as her hand covered her mouth. Sitting down on her knees, she picked up one of the nearest books that had a piece of parchment sticking out of the top. Curiosity getting the better of her, Faithe thumbed through the worn pages, stopping at the page the parchment was at. Reading over it, a look of disbelief crossed her face.  
  
Was this what he had been doing all night? Faithe had to fight herself from throwing herself on him in a grateful hug. Staring at him, his head literally in the book as he lay on his stomach, a look of adoration crossed her face. I don't deserve this...  
  
Reaching down, she stroked his hair gently. She wished she had someway to get him into bed without waking him up, but there wasn't a way for her to do that, unless wanted to levitate him. However, the word disaster popped into mind with that possibility. Sliding her hand down to his shoulder, she shook him gently. She hated waking him up, again, but he needed to get in bed, not sleep on the floor.  
  
"Orlando," speaking softly as she continued to shake his shoulder, "Come on sweetie, come get in bed."  
  
Though physically unconscious, Orlando's mind continued to live under the impression that he was still reading. He dreamt that he was still awake, lying upon his floor and still searching for a spell. Turning the book pages, he found useless spell after useless spell, and, in his dream, began to despair when he heard a voice- Faithe's voice.  
  
Her voice and touch stirred him from his unconscious state, allowing the stench of old library book to infiltrated his nostrils as he head spent another few moments in the pages of volume six. Slowly, his eyes opened and met the blurry text, informing Orlando that he had fallen asleep.  
  
At the moment, the man was too overcome with frustration to realize what- who, rather- had woken him from his light slumber. A frustrated groan escaped his lips as he shifted upon the books, moving muscles that had been frozen in awkward positions for nearly an hour. How was he supposed to save Kayte if he couldn't stay awake long enough to even find a decent spell? Sitting up, he turned away from Faithe, still not awake enough to know she was there. Reaching up a hand, he placed it upon his forehead with a low moan. His head ached from not having eaten in a few days, and he was beginning to feel slightly light-headed. Cracking his neck, his eyes caught sight of Faithe and a small smile lit his lips as her earlier words were pushed to the front of his mind.  
  
Sighing, he brought her into his embrace. Instantly he wondered why she was there when he had placed her into the bed seemingly only moments ago. Realizing she must have had another nightmare, he felt sorry he hadn't been there. She'd probably woken up scared and alone, and come out looking for him, worried like he had been when he'd woken up to find her gone. After gently kissing the crown of her head as an un-verbally accompanied apology, he pulled back and considered her request.  
  
Her words had been sweet enough, pleading with him to come back to bed. Had he not felt bad about leaving Faithe alone, he would have refused without a second-thought, choosing, instead, to skim the remaining books until, once more, he fell asleep in them. However, he didn't want Faithe to have to be alone, and, thus, reluctantly agreed:  
  
"Alright."  
  
The word came out barely above a whisper as the man stood, gently bringing Faithe up with him. Tired and worn as he was, he didn't want Faithe to have to walk all ten feet back to the bedroom. Slowly scooping her up into his arms, he carried her back through the open door and laid her down upon the mattress before walking around to the other side.  
  
Sluggishly pulling the sheet over their two bodies once more, the man didn't speak. Whether he was too tired to do so or just had nothing to say was unclear. Guiding Faithe's head to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and, within a moment, had fallen back asleep, this time slightly more content.  
  
Raising her eyebrow as she groaned, but when he sat up and laid his hand on his forehead, her eyebrows furrowed. Concern played on her face as she watched him, unsure if he was all right or not. Her body shuddered as he cracked his neck, her face wrinkling as the sound of popping bones reached her ears.  
  
Though the sound bothered her, she didn't have the same reasoning as most people. Everytime she heard the sound of bones cracking, visions of her fall flashed through her mind. The sickening crack that she heard as her spine snapped and her wrist broke still plagued her. Swallowing distastefully, she returned his smile with a sheepish grin.  
  
Allowing herself to be pulled into his embrace, a small smile crept onto her lips as she closed her eyes. Opening them when she felt his lips, she looked up at him as he pulled away after the small kiss on her head. Looking at him curiously, she tilted her head sideways ever so slightly. Smiling as he agreed, and stood up with him, giving him a small peck on his lips. Wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up, she shook her head, an amused expression in her face.  
  
Watching him walk around the bed soundlessly, Faithe couldn't shake the smile on her face as she watched him crawl into bed next to her. Allowing her head to be pulled onto his chest, she allowed her body to relax, though her eyes were still staring at him. Reaching her hand up, she stroked his cheek gently and repititiously until he fell asleep. Even after he had fallen asleep, her brown eyes continued to watch him. Before long, her own eyes began to weigh heavily from exhaustion, and she had fallen asleep.  
  
****  
  
Moaning softly as she rolled over, her eye flitted open. Blinking a few times, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, enabling her vision to clear. Looking at the clock, she was slightly shocked to find it to be almost noon. That was the longest she had slept in two weeks. Yawning, her eyes flitted over to Orlando, who was still asleep. Smiling, she crept out of bed quietly, and slipped silently out of the room.  
  
Returning after a half hour, with a tray in her hand, she set it down on the floor next to his side of the bed. Breakfast in bed was becoming a relatively fast trend with the two, but Faithe enjoyed it. The two plates both had a hearty looking omelet on them, with a few strips of bacon. Trying to keep put something somewhat healthy in their bodies, she had cut up fresh fruit and there were two small, glass bowls with miniture fruit salads on them.  
  
Leaning over, she brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and kissed him in an attempt to wake him up.  
  
Orlando's brilliantly blue eyes curiously followed Faithe as she reached down and procured the tray. Seeing it, the man shook his head and kept his inevitable chuckling to a minumum. Breakfast in bed had almost become a tradition with them as one of them had made it every time they'd slept together ((and done nothing but sleep, obviously...)).  
  
Seeing the delectable-looking omelete upon the plate adorned with a marvelous fruit salad, the man's face softened with a reverent smile. It was obvious she hadn't just conjured up the food. Indeed, she never ceased to amaze him, not only with her sweetness, but also the fact that she could make such a scrumptious breakfast with what little his pathetic excuse for a kitchen had offered.  
  
Grinning that boyish grin, he gratiously took a plate from the tray and began cutting away pieces of the omelete to put into his mouth rather hastily.  
  
"Mm-hmm," he replied with a grin, knowing full well that his mouth was full of half-chewed egg and such.  
  
Swallowing it, he planted a kiss upon her cheek.  
  
"Is this little tradition of breakfast in bed going to continue after we're married?" he asked, not really realizing what he was saying.  
  
Raising her eyebrow as he stuffed his face, a small laugh escaped her mouth when kissed her cheek. Shaking her head with an amused expression on her face, she tilted her head, the amused expression melted into one of adoration. Aww...he's so cute when he stuffs his face... Lifting her small glass of juice, she took a small sip.  
  
quote:  
  
Is this little tradition of breakfast in bed going to continue after  
we're married?  
  
  
As the words comprehended inside her mind, she choked on the juice out of shock. Coughing a few times, she set her juice down. Rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands, she blinked a few times. Looking at him for a moment, a small smile, accompanied by a light blush, filled her face. Picking up her bowl of fruit and a fork, she picked out a strawberry, chewing on it, more or less for something to do. Swallowing it, she grinned at him.  
  
"I hope so..." Lowering her eyes, she speared a banana slice, still feeling the shock of his words. That had definitely been unexpected. Of course, the thought of marriage between the two had been silent reveries, but this was the first time either had ventured to even verbally mention it to the other. The idea of it wasn't a bad one though, that was for sure.  
  
The words themselves had been formed subconsciously within Orlando's mind, hoping, to some extent, to get a feel on where Faithe stood on the idea of marriage. He knew that she, as well as he himself, was young, perhaps too young to fully grasp the extent of commitment that such an idea entailed, but, nevertheless, his mind had been considering the option a lot more often, in between his near anxiety attacks due to Kaytlin's kidnapping and Faithe's mysterious disappearance. Yet it wasn't until much more than a second after the words escaped Orlando's lips that his mind realized he had said them.  
  
Instantly a bright blush had encompassed his cheeks, and his eyes diverted down to the almost-gone omelet upon his plate just as Faithe began choking upon her juice. Worried he had upset her, his eyes darted up as her coughing ceased and saw her palms rubbing her eyes. He wanted to drop his gaze, but couldn't help but leave it upon her, fulfilling his curiosity. Then came that smile upon her face, complemented by the most precious rosy- ness in her cheeks. Mentally sighing with relief, Orlando gradually returned the smile, which almost looked like a proud sort of beam.  
  
It only lasted a moment though, before thoughts re-entered his head, giving him an awkward feeling as he began picking absentmindedly through the fruit salad in silence, blush still upon his cheeks.  
  
"I'm going to go take a shower," he announced, setting the plate back upon the tray and easing his way out of the bed. "Then we can start looking for Kayte."  
  
And with that random little declaration, he made his way out of the room and into the bathroom.  
  
Blushing at his blush, and his smile, her own eyes lowered to the fruit. Looking up as he set his plate down, a slightly worried look crossed her face. She hadn't meant to upset him or anything, but apparently she had. I should have left it alone...  
  
Watching him walk away, she fought the urge to run after him. Hearing the door shut, she waved her wand and all the dishes and food vanished. Well, at least she had eaten three pieces of fruit in the past four days.  
  
Looking down, she lifted the star, placing her index finger and thumb on the points of the star. Concentrating her magic, she waited for the familiar feelings to wash over her. The only problem was, nothing ever came. Looking down, the star remained lifeless.  
  
"No, no, no, NO!" Screaming the last 'no' that came out of her mouth, Faithe stood up, completely panic stricken. Yanking in a futile attempt to rip the necklace from her neck, her breathing became extremely fast and rapid. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes, on the verge of hyperventilating.  
  
Grabbing a small pile of clothes from the top of his dresser on the way out, Orlando made his way to the bathroom. Pushing open the door with one hand, his other dropped the clothes messily onto the left side of the sink. Turning halfway around, he gently shut the door with a sigh. What was that? In Orlando's mind, there were three key things he'd just done wrong. First, he'd mentioned marriage. Secondly, he'd mentioned it casually. Thirdly, he hadn't mentioned it casually enough for it to appear as a joke.  
  
Pulling the waist of his pants, they slid down to the floor, allowing him to step out of them.  
  
It was no secret that the notion now had a permanent residence in the man's mind. After all, two weeks ago, he'd been so infatuated with the idea that he'd actually bought Faithe an engagement ring. However, he hadn't had the slightest intention of actually bringing up the idea with her for quite some time. She was still in school; it was bad enough that he was sneaking around rules to date her and there was no need to have a student-teacher wedding. Not only that, but she was also only eighteen- much too young to consider something like that. It wasn't that Orlando doubted her in any way, only that, at such a young age, she had her whole life before her; it wasn't fair of him to ask her to tie herself to him when she might answer just because she'd never experienced love with anyone else.  
  
He stepped inside the shower, running a hand through his hair as he basked in the warm, monotonous flow of water.  
  
Then again, if he had had to mention it, he could have at least mentioned it with a general feeling behind the words- one that would have allowed him to turn one way or the other instead of being indecisive at a T- intersection and crashing right into the "ßà" sign. Maybe if he'd introduced the topic a little more sincerely- more seriously- instead of letting the first time he mentioned it be so causal and. dumb-sounding. Or if he'd at least tried to make it into more of a joke.  
  
Near-violently pushing the water off, Orlando grabbed the towel he'd flung over the shower door and wrapped it around his waist after rubbing his hair with it for a moment in a half-baked attempt to dry it.  
  
Pushing the thought out of his mind as he shaved his rugged beard off, giving his face that oddly juvenile look that made him look his age. Shaking his head at the reflection, his mind jumped thoughts and began feeling guilty about leaving Faithe how he had. And then, once he'd thought of Faithe, the man remembered about Kaytlin. Life just kept getting better.  
  
Throwing on his forest green shirt and jeans, he ran his hand over his face, trying to regain some sense of control. It seemed that his world just kept spinning out of hand. Placing his hand upon the doorknob he turned it, but didn't open the door. There was a part of him that wanted to remain in the bathroom just then- safe from everything was so rapidly swirling out of control. Yet Faithe was out there.  
  
Thus, with a sigh, he pushed open the door and returned to the bedroom. Pushing the door completely open, his eyes widened at the sound of Faithe's rapid breathing. Drowned out by a combination of the shower water and his own thoughts, Faithe's shouts hadn't been audible, and he hadn't a clue what had happened. Rushing over to where she leaned upon the wall, Orlando took her in his arms and gently eased her down to the floor.  
  
"What is it, Faithe?" he asked with worry inundating his voice. "What happened?"  
  
Faithe's usual pale complexion, which had been paler the past couple weeks, had gone chalk white. Almost as if in shock, she hadn't noticed Orlando's reappearance, or the fact that she was now sitting on the ground. Her brown eyes were so dark they almost looked black, and they hadn't blinked in several minutes.  
  
Her body was trembling as if she'd just seen a ghost. Well, maybe a ghost wouldn't be so unusual for a witch, but you get the general impression. Her head kept tilting forward as her eyes shut, looking as if she were going to faint. However, her eyes would open and her head would pull back up. If Orlando had spoken to her, she hadn't heard it.  
  
Absolute terror filled every part of her body, and she was about to hyperventilate. Her left hand still remained on the star in the same position, but the star still remained lifeless.  
  
Cradling her as he was, Orlando soon found himself in a similar state of terror. Faithe's state of near-unconsciousness was horrifying, and, if it hadn't been for her mechanical motions and the face that she was breathing so rapidly, he might have thought her dead. Jaw slung slightly open, his eyes searched her practically lifeless body desperately. until they landed upon the star on her neck. Instantaneously, the man knew (or, at least thought he knew) what had happened.  
  
"No."  
  
The breathy word passed through the man's lips almost inaudibly. A moment of silence, save Faithe's breathing, passed as shock came over the man: Kaytlin was dead.  
  
Letting go of Faithe so quickly that the action might have been interpreted as violent, he bolted up off the bedroom floor. Leaping onto the bed, he snatched his wand from the nightstand and then darted out the door, into the main room of the dormitory, where all the books lay. Frantically rummaging through them, he found the pages he had bookmarked early that morning. Skimming them quickly, he found not a single one to be as useful as it had seemed at 5:00am.  
  
Grunting with frustration, he flung volume six over the couch and hastily grabbed whatever book was closest to him, which happened to be volume 8 of Rarely Useful Spells. Flipping through the pages, the man found his own breathing had become rapid, like that of Faithe. Page after page of the book was providing him with nothing useful, and he was beginning to have less and less control over himself as the fear of reality took hold of him.  
  
Finally, he found something: a charm of sorts that would enchant a mirror to see someone. provided they had another enchanted mirror.  
  
Cursing the book, he continued reading, only to find a slightly altered version of the mirror spell beneath it. This spell involved enchanting a pair of muggle eyeglasses to see anywhere in the world. Perhaps he could combine one of his seemingly useless locating spells with that one.  
  
Pointing his wand towards the bedroom door, he "Accio"-ed an old pair of glasses (for the man had contacts, now) from the second drawer of his nightstand to his outstretched hand.  
  
Eyes skimming the list of necessary ingredients, he began gnawing nervously upon his tongue as he magically summoned the items to him from the top cupboard of his kitchen, hoping he had everything necessary. For the most part, he did, save the livonett powder, for which he substituted celix root, and, within two short minutes, he had managed to hastily enchant the glasses. If he had done everything correctly, and the celix root's properties weren't too far off those of the livonett powder, he should be able to see Kayte.  
  
Hesitantly, he raised the glasses up, intending to look through them, but couldn't quite make himself do it for fear of what he might see.  
  
Orlando's presence had been unnoticed when he'd been there, and his dissapearance didn't quite click inside of her. Sitting there, her gaze continued to be unfocused and in another world. After what seemed like hours, her hand finally dropped from the star.  
  
Her chest was heaving up and down as she fought for every breath, she slumped against the wall. Tilting her head back, she swallowed with difficulty. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she almost lost her balance.  
  
Jake... Orlando's presence had been unnoticed when he'd been there, and his dissapearance didn't quite click inside of her. Sitting there, her gaze continued to be unfocused and in another world. After what seemed like hours, her hand finally dropped from the star.  
  
Her chest was heaving up and down as she fought for every breath, she slumped against the wall. Tilting her head back, she swallowed with difficulty. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she almost lost her balance.  
  
Jake...  
  
Swallowing loudly, Orlando took a deep breath and rolled his head in a futile effort to calm himself. He didn't know what he'd see when he looked through the enchanted glass and, in some ways, didn't want to. Yet this was something he had to do...  
  
Thus, with his tongue violently tearing his tongue apart, the man closed his eyes and set the glasses upon his face. Three... two... one...  
  
Nothing.  
  
The only thing in front of his eyes was a rather distorted vision of his feet.  
  
Uncharacteristically, an explicative escaped the man's lips as he removed the glasses from his face, throwing them onto the couch as he let his head slump backwards.  
  
He didn't know what to do now...  
  
Biting his lip, his face contracted, almost to prevent himself from completely breaking down. Choking back a sob, he lifted his head back up and ran a hand across it as a thought crossed his mind: Jake.  
  
Closing his eyes, he apparated back to the bedroom, landing just inches from Faithe, who, evidently, had worked herself up to the point where she collapsed. Taking her in his arms, he cradled her fragile body, and, holding it tightly against his own, apparated the pair to Jake's apartment, landing somewhere in the living room.  
  
Setting her exhausted body upon the couch, he slowly stood back up, looking around for any signs of life.  
  
"Jake...?"  
  
Vaguely aware of Orlando this time, and his arms enveloping her, she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. Her eyes had once more taken on that vacant, unblinking expression as the two apparated to Jake's apartment. The second Orlando had stood up and left her on the couch, she hugged her knees tightly.  
  
Jake had been in his bedroom, making a futile attempt at sleep. Hearing a voice in his apartment, his hand flew to his wand, ready to run out there and attack the intruder. However, he recognized the voice as Orlando's, and instead, stood up and put his wand in his pocket.  
  
Why is Orlando here? It made him feel slightly uneasy that he was there. His sudden appearance could be a bad sign, but Jake pushed it out of his head. Until he walked into the living room. Eyebrows furrowing with a worried expression, he practically ran to the couch.  
  
"Izzy?" Kneeling down in front of Faithe, he reached up and touched her cheek. Looking up at Orlando, he shot him a quizzical expression. "What happened? What's going on?"  
  
Taking a breath, Orlando's face resumed that vacant look. His skin appeared to hang off his face, and his eyes looked as though they were made of glass. Staring almost vacantly into space, the blue orbs flitted between Faithe and Jake slowly, taking each of them in. He'd done what he'd needed to, and now the adrenaline was slowly leaving his body, and reality was settling back into the man's mind.  
  
"Kayte... she's..."  
  
Unable to say it, Orlando let himself slump down to the ground. Leaning his head back, he let out a sort of sigh.  
  
"Faithe's necklace...  
  
"I found her like that on the floor of my room, and her fingers were on the necklace, but nothing was happening...  
  
"Kayte's dead, Jake."  
  
Jake didn't like the look on Orlando's face before he spoke, and the fact that his sister looked like she was in shock didn't add to his comfort. As Orlando sputtered his words, Jake's hand slowly fell. A cold feeling settled over the man as a feeling of dread that he had ever known settled over him.  
  
quote:  
  
"Kayte's dead, Jake."  
  
  
Falling back into his butt, Jake's eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped. His eyes fell to the ground and he began shaking his head.  
  
"No." Swallowing hard, he forced the words out of his mouth. "No, she isn't." Standing up quickly, he looked over at Faithe, who hadn't moved since she'd been set down on the couch.  
  
"Isabelle would have felt it. Izzy?" Leaning over her, he placed his hands on Faithe's shoulder relatively firmly. HIs voice was soft and pleading as a look of terror filled his eyes. "You felt it when Grandmommy died, which means you would have felt Kaytlin. You didn't feel it, did you?"  
  
Faithe's eyes remained staring at the wall, but not seeing anything. Jake's patience level was incredibly thin, and her silence wasn't helping.  
  
"Answer me Isabelle." His jaw was clenched slightly as he stared at her, desperation in his eyes.  
  
Wiping his hand across his face, Orlando's eyes flitted up to Jake with a sorrowful, sympathetic look in them.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
The words were whispered in a choked voice, making them pretty much inaudible to anyone except Orlando himself.  
  
Jake's near-panic, though noticed by him, appeared to have gone unnoticed by Orlando. It was as though the man was seeing an instant replay of himself when he had had the realization. First, disbelief, then the need to do something, anything. But Jake seemed to be lingering on the disbelief part, and, as he prodded Faithe, Orlando felt a spark of hope rise up within him. If Jake didn't believe Kayte to be gone, then maybe she wasn't.  
  
Leaning forward slightly, he awaited Faithe's reply, wondering if Jake could get her to speak to him.  
  
Jake was getting frustrated with Faithe's silence, and the pressure on her shoulders was steasily increasing. The longer they sat in silence, the quicker his breathing became. His frustration was slowly fading into anger.  
  
"Dang it, Isabelle! Answer me!" Yelling, he shook her shoulders in an attempt to snap her out of her silence. Letting go of her, because there was a rational voice telling him he was on the verge of hurting her, he picked up a vase and chucked it across the room.  
  
The sound resonated in Faithe's mind, causing her body to jump. Whimpering, she shrank down into the couch, burying her face in her drawn up legs. Sitting there, her thin figure and terrified mein made her look like a child.  
  
Walking over to a wall, Jake leaned against it, swallowing hard. "She isn't dead. My daughter is not dead. Eddie wouldn't kill her. He  
  
Although he fully understood where Jake was coming from, the man's boiling rage was starting to scare Orlanod, especially when he began taking it out on Faithe. Glad Jake had realized that this before too much harm came of it, Orlando let out a sort of relieved sigh.  
  
Scurrying off the floor at Faithe's whimper, the man sat himself down upon the couch and pulled her into him. Wrapping his arms around her, the man tried as best he could to calm the young woman in the hope that, if she calmed down, she might be able to tell them what exactly she had felt.  
  
Stroking Faithe's head gently, his eyes wandered over to Jake and an unswallowable lump filled his throat as he sat there. There was a part of him that wondered what he was doing there, barging in on the Cunningham family's lives when the one member of their clan he'd actually been close to hadn't spoken with him in two weeks.  
  
Temporarily ignoring Jake, solely because he felt a little awkward talking to the man, his focus reverted to Faithe, trying to get her to snap out of her trance.  
  
"Faithe," he whispered, still gently running his fingers through her hair, "Come on, Faithe... you've gotta talk to Jake... Tell him what you felt..."  
  
Only partly aware of Orlando's arms around her, Faithe's body rested next to his, though her muscles were still tense and trembling. His words went unheard in her blank mind, and her eyes had not blinked in some time.  
  
Sighing, Jake faced the two, rubbing his red eyes with the palms of his hands. It had been awhile since Jake had slept, and it showed in the bags under his eyes and the paleness of his complexion. Shaking his head, he sighed again.  
  
"If she did feel anything, she won't be back with us for awhile. When our grandmother died, Izzy didn't speak for a solid week." Shaking his head, he walked over to the couch and sat down on the other side of Faithe. Looking over at Orlando, he sighed once more.  
  
"She can't be dead Orlando. If Eddie killed her, then all of this would have been unecessary. He didn't help Bridget out of the kindness of his heart. He has his own demands and he knows that if something happens to Kayte, his chances of getting what he wants would be even smaller."  
  
Feeling her small, delicate body against his, Orlando's arms tightened a little around Faithe. It seemed as though holding her was all he could do. Yet, even that was useless, he knew, gazing down at her face, which looked as though it was frozen in that position, never to move again.  
  
Looking up at Jake's voice, Orlando nodded, to show that he had heard, although he didn't quite understand. The thought of Kayte dying had been bad enough, now he was forced to consider the effects it would have upon his beloved Faithe... Orlando may have been through a lot in his life, but whatever bad things had happened, they had always happened to him. Never had he ever had to help someone he loved through something so horrible... Then again, he hadn't ever really loved someone like he loved Faithe.  
  
As Jake sat down, Orlando pulled Faithe a little more onto his lap, resting the girl's head upon his chest, more for something to do rather than to actually make room for the other man.  
  
Hearing Jake speak of Eddie, rage flashed for a moment in Orlando's eyes.  
  
"How's he going to use Kayte to get Faithe?" he asked in a voice that radiated disgust above all else.  
  
Watching the other man pull Faithe closer to him, Jake reached out and laid his hand on her arm. Sitting there for a moment, he allowed Orlando's question to hang in midair. Hadn't Faithe told him? Sighing, he dropped his arm back down by his side.  
  
"Eddie knows Isabelle would do anything for Kaytlin, and he's using that to his advantage. He'll return Kayte if Isabelle will marry him. He said that they could go get married, and he'll let her finish out the rest of her year at Rosencrantz, and then after she graduates, she'd move in with him. I told Izzy I wouldn't let her do that...there's got to be another way. I know there is, and I know Kaytlin isn't dead." Standing up, he looked down at the two.  
  
"Let me go lay her down in her bed." Reaching down, he gently lifted Faithe into his arms. Closing her eyes, a small whimper escaped her throat as she burrowed her head in his shoulder.  
  
Once he had settled Faithe in her bed, he closed the door and returned to Orlando. Sitting back down on the couch, he ran his hand through his hair.  
  
"What makes this worse are our parents. They have this attitude that if Isabelle would have simply given into Eddie's pursuits, then none of this would have happened. It's almost as if they're taking Eddie's side." Rubbing his temples tiredly, he closed them momentarily. Opening them, he stood up. "Want some coffee?"  
  
Listening to Jake's words, a look of mixted shock and repulsion contorted Orlando's face. He had known Eddie had problems, but this? Using an innocent little girl as collatoral to get Faithe? Exploiting an innocent love to get something that he couldn't have possibly earned himself? It was morraly repugnant.  
  
His eyes flitted from Jake down to Faithe- his sweet, innocent, beautiful Faithe. Lightly stroking the girl's face, a sort of reverent look shone through his gaze.  
  
As Jake moved to take her in his arms, Orlando reluctantly allowed him to do so, only after planting a soft kiss upon the young woman's forehead though.  
  
Taking a deep breath, the man ran his hand over his face, only exhaling when Jake returned.  
  
"God, I had no idea..." he whispered, keeping his hand partially covering his mouth, "She went through a week of that ultimatum alone... That torture... and all that after a week of what I put her through... God, Jake..."  
  
Lifting his head at Jake's question, the man nodded his head, then resumed his half-aloud/half-silent musing.  
  
Clapping a hand on Orlando's shoulder, Jake shook his head. "Orlando, don't blame yourself. You were put in a rough position, and Isabelle knew that. She just needed some time to get past her hurt."  
  
Walking into the kitchen, he grabbed two coffee cups from the cabinet. Pouring the two cups completely full, he picked them up by the handle. He had a feeling that his CoffeeMate had gotten more use the past week than the previous year he had owned it. Walking into the living room, he handed Orlando's cup to him, and sat back down on the couch.  
  
"I don't even know what all happened that night. I haven't been able to get her to talk about it. I tried to get her to open up to me when she was in the hospital, but she wouldn't."  
  
Shaking his head as Jake told him not to blame himself, Orlando's lips curled into a negating sort of expression; this whole thing was entirely his fault. He'd logic-ed it out before, and, until that logic was proved flawed, he wasn't about to disregard it.  
  
Nodding in thanks, he took the cup of the disgusting brown liquid from Jake. Orlando never had been much of a coffee drinker. Raised in a Wizarding house, he'd always just "enervate"-d himself when energy was necessary. However, he'd noticed that this "coffee" potion seemed to have other properties than just that of energizing oneself. It almost seemed like a sort of alcohol, working like it cleared one's mind. Hoping for that, he took a sip and downed a gulp or two of the fluid. Remarkably, he hid his disgust well- coffee was evidently an acquired taste, like wine- and the only action he allowed himself to make was a slight raise of his eyebrows, which fit right in to Jake's next question.  
  
Jake didn't know? How was that? He knew. Then again, he had only found out last night. Thoughts spun in the man's head: waking up to Faithe's hand upon his face, visions of the two meteors, the smile that had lit the woman's mien, the taste of her. and then waking up to find Faithe gone- crying alone in his living room, searching through endless volumes of books for a spell that didn't seem to exist.  
  
Shaking his head, Orlando wondered exactly how much he ought to tell Jake.  
  
"I don't know the details, but from what I gathered last night, Bridget somehow got Kayte while Eddie held Faithe back. Then," the man paused to swallow, "after Bridget had taken Kayte, Eddie."  
  
Trailing off, Orlando's mind was flooded with sickening visions of Eddie battering Faithe, causing him swallow again, this time to prevent himself from retching. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so difficult to say if he hadn't endured something similar as a child, but the fact was that he had, and it was a rather long moment before he found the words.  
  
"He hurt her Jake. Kicked her, slapped her, punched her. and.  
  
"'Crucio'."  
  
The last word came out in a voice barely above a whisper, as though Orlando was a little boy saying a bad word.  
  
"Why'd he have to hurt her? Bridget already had Kaytlin."  
  
Listening to Orlando speak, Jake buries his face in his hands. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and he was thankful his face was hidden from the other man. He knew Orlando was struggling to convey to him what Faithe had gone through and told him. Orlando cared about his sister as much as he did, and Jake knew it. He wouldn't verbally admit it, but it kind of hurt that she had opened up to Orlando, but not him. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he finally looked up at the other man with red eyes.  
  
"I don't know. Intimidation? Insanity? Pleasure? Gah...who knows. Knowing Izzy, she was probably putting up a fight." Sighing, he rubbed hus face. "This is all my fault. I knew he was bad news. I knew he was after Isabelle. I just didn't think...I didn't know..." Voice cracking, his shoulders slumped as he rested his head in his hands.  
  
"I just want my baby back."  
  
**  
  
Rolling over in her bed, Faithe pulled her white comforter over her shoulders. She felt sick to her stomach, but she was starting to come back to her senses. From the living room, she heard the soft murmering from the two men, but couldn't distinguish what specifically was being said. Sitting up suddenly, she looked around her room with wide eyes. She thought she had heard a soft popping noise, but was hallucinating. Shaking her head, she laid back down, scolding herself for getting so jumpy over the sound of one of the guys setting down a coffee cup.  
  
Sighing, her eyes flitted towards the window. Finally, allowing her eyes to close, Faithe's mind began to work. She knew Kayte couldn't be dead; she would have felt it. When her grandmother had died, Faithe had been asleep, but had awaken screaming from the unexplainable feeling inside of her. The feeling of death. What scared her and perplexed her all the more was how Eddie had managed to get the necklace off. There was an enchantment on the small pieces of jewelry that didn't allow them to be taken off, unless the wearer died.  
  
Hearing a door open, Faithe's ears pricked up. Laying still, she listened to the soft footsteps that were crossing the room.  
  
"'Lando?" Speaking softly, she opened her eyes as she felt the bed behind her give way.  
  
"Orlando, I-" A hand gently brushed against her cheek, but it wasn't the familiar touch of comfort of Orlando. What scared her most was that she did recognize the hand that lay on her cheek. Sitting up quickly, a small scream began to escape her lips as she tried to jump out of bed. A hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream.  
  
**  
  
"Did you hear something?" Looking up at Orlando, Jake's eyebrows furrowed together.  
  
**  
  
"Shhhhh..." Whispering in Faithe's ear, Eddie pulled her off the bed to a standing position, but kept his hand over her mouth. Making an attempt to pull herself out of his grasp, Faithe fought back tears as a small whimper escaped her throat. Eddie brought his other arm around her middle, pinning her back to his front, and allowing his wand to point down.  
  
Her eyes darted around the room, a frightened expression filling her dark brown eyes. The closet door that was beside her door was wide open, explaining the muffled popping noise and the door opening. Looking around desperately, her eye fell on the small form of Kayte on the floor next to her bed. Faithe felt such a surge of relief course through her body to see the little girl's chest rising and falling steadily, she almost fainted.  
  
"Kayte!" Screaming as loud as she could, Faithe began thrashing as hard as she could to get to the unconscious child. Eddie's grip tightened around her small physique, and he used the hand over her mouth to tilt her head back and to the side slightly, forcing her to look back at him.  
  
"I would refrain from doing anything rash, Isabelle, considering my wand is pointing straight at Kaytlin." Keeping his voice low, he kissed her on her forehead before allowing her head to relax.  
  
**  
  
The second Faithe's muffled scream reached Jake's ears, he was on his feet. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he took off down the hallway. Throwing open Faithe's door, he stopped just inside the door, his eyes widening. It didn't take long for his eyes to survey the scene before him. His daughter was alive, laying on the floor with a wand pointed straight at her, but clearly unconscious. His sister was being held forcibly by Eddie, and looked terrified out of her mind.  
  
A malicious smirk spread ocer Eddie's face, making it clear that this whole event had been pleasurable for him. Faithe's eyes had begun to leak tears as she stared at her brother. Dropping his head, Eddie whispered in Faithe's ear, his voice loud enough for Jake to hear, but his eyes never left Jake's.  
  
"It's time for you to make a decision Izzy."  
  
With a sort of sorrowful smile playing upon his lips, Orlando shook his head. It wasn't any more Jake's fault than it was Faithe's. Eddie was just one of those people who have a diabolical sense of being. Using others' emotional weaknesses for his own personal gain and manipulating them to suit his own personal desires.  
  
"You couldn't have known, Jake," he said softly, wanting to comfort the man but not thinking it was his place.  
  
Hearing Jake refer to Kayte as his "baby", Orlando was reminded that Jake was Kayte's father. She was part of him, and he was part of her. True, Orlando had always known this, but, somehow, hearing Jake speak like a father to Kaytlin hit a different place in his heart. It was as though all the trials that Jake had been through were suddenly shoved in front of Orlando's face. He had made a mistake as a boy, much younger than Orlando when he had done the same, been faced with worse consequences, one that would haunt him his whole life through, and still was "on top" so to speak.  
  
"We'll get Kayte back," he added, taking another sip of the vile brown liquid.  
  
Hearing a noise of sorts, Orlando's head snapped in the direction of it, and then turned back to meet Jake's with a wary gaze. Nodding, he subconsciously began to gnaw upon his tongue. "Yeah.  
  
"Um, I'm going to go check on Faithe, alright?"  
  
Setting his coffee cup/mug/beverage-holder upon the nearest flat surface, Orlando stood slowly and began to make his way across the room and down the hallway. He had heard a noise, but didn't really think anything of it. He was sure Faithe was alright, but, in all actuality, had only used her as an excuse to get away from Jake. It wasn't that he didn't like the man, because it was no secret that Orlando had the utmost respect for him, but rather the awkward feeling he got seeing someone he wasn't all that close to in such distress that made him leave.  
  
He was only about halfway down the hallway when he heard Faithe's scream. The man was frozen for an instant, yet revived himself when Jake blew by. Pulling his own wand out of his pocket, he darted after him, freezing for a second time next to Jake, yet a little further inside the doorframe.  
  
Although he was unaware of it, Orlando's body had begun to shake as his brilliant blue eyes scanned the room. Kayte's crumbled body lying upon the floor, Eddie's evil grin shining in the moonlight as his wand pointed towards the girl, and, caught in the antagonist's arms, Faithe.  
  
quote:  
  
"It's time for you to make a decision Izzy."  
  
  
A small gasp escaped Orlando's lips at the words. A decision? What was she to decide? Kayte's life for hers? The idea was beyond monstrous and appalling, although, even in Orlando's immense vocabulary, there was no word that fit it. It was at that time that the man's fingers tightened upon the maple stick he held between his quavering fingers. What do to.  
  
He wanted to get Faithe out of the wretchedly pathetic excuse for a man's grasp, but doing so put Kayte in danger. He wanted to rid Eddie of his wand, but any attempt to do so would surely be thwarted and put the two innocents in danger. There had to be a way out. But how?  
  
Breathing growing a little more rapid, but still remaining quiet, Orlando stood in silence, waiting for the opportune moment. What, exactly, he was going to do when that moment came, he still didn't know. Hopefully, when the moment arrived, he would.  
  
Everything in the room seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet Faithe's mind was in fast forward motion. Jake had told her no countless times when the question of what to do about Eddie had come into conversation, but now there didn't seem to be any other choice. How could she say no to him?  
  
Her eyes settled on Orlando, and the tears that had been threatning to fall began to slip down her cheeks. She knew she couldn't do anything that would endanger Kaytlin, but she knew this meant the prospect of living without Orlando, again. She had never taken a day with him for granted, but now it seemed enough. Fate was being unkind to her. Wait, when did she believe in fate? She never had been one to do so.  
  
Eddie's hand released his grip of her mouth, seeing no reason for her to scream. Instead of dropping his hand, he ran his index finger over her bottom lip, winking at Orlando. He held all the cards right now, and they all knew it, and Eddie knew they knew it.  
  
"Orlando Lorenz. Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Tightening his grip of Faithe, he bent down and kissed her cheek, his eyes never leaving the other man's. "You know, you should have been here the night we came and got Kaytlin. It would have been quite a show. I'm pretty sure I heard her mutter your name when she was twitching on the ground in pain." Smiling, he rested his chin on Faithe's shoulder for a moment. Lifting it, he looked down at Kaytlin for a moment before returning his gaze to Jake.  
  
Faithe's eyes had yet to leave Orlando's, but there was a look of defeat in them. Closing her eyes, a couple tears slipped down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her head, finally breaking her eye contact with Orlando.  
  
"Ah, that's my girl. I knew you'd made the right decision." Turning Faithe around in his arms, Eddie lifted her chin so she was looking at him. A thought popped into her head, though she was rather apprehensive about trying it. Of course, Eddie didn't leave her much choice to the first part of her plan, which he initiated by bending down and kissing her. Despite her first inclination to bite him, Faithe blocked it out and returned the kissm hoping for the best. Keeping her eyes opened, a surge of relief filled her as she felt his wand hand wrap around her more completely, bringing the wand off of Kaytlin. Without a second thought, she kneed harshly him in a not so friendly place. Turning her head towards Jake, she shot a look from him to Kaytlin, telling him rather pointedly to get Kaytlin without calling Eddie's attention to it.  
  
Eddie groaned at the pain, his grip loosening up on Faithe considerably. Taking advantage of this, Faithe used her weight to push him back. Since they had still been standing right in front of the bed, Eddie tripped as he was forced back, falling on the bed. However, he dragged Faithe down with him.  
  
While all this was happening, Jake made a move towards Kaytlin. Lifting the small girl in his arms, he rejoined Orlando by the door, immediately returning his gaze to his sister. He felt conflicted. He couldn't very well just leave Kaytlin, but Faithe needed help.  
  
Eddie had regained himself by now, only he was fuming. Sitting up, his eyes narrowed as he turned on Faithe. Kneeling on the bed, he straddled her legs. Reaching down, he grasped her throat in between his hands.  
  
"That was a mistake." Tightening his grip on her throat, Eddie's malicious smirk had melted away into a look of pure hatrid. Faithe attempted to scream, but struggling for breath, it only came out a small whimper as she tried to pry his hands off her neck.  
  
Orlando's azure eyes froze upon Faithe's vulnerable body lying helpless in the monster's grasp. She was terrified and desolate; he could feel it, and, more than anything, he wanted to take that feeling away from her- to make everything right for her. He wanted to raise his gaze, to meet hers, but was too afraid of what the two pairs of eyes would communicate to one another. The man didn't know if he could handle seeing what he knew Faithe's eyes would convey- scared and powerless, she would silently plea for him to get her out of there- because he knew that his eyes would betray him and show her how weak he himself was- too pathetic to save her. too unworthy of such a deity.  
  
For whatever reason, though, eventually his eyes did meet hers, and, upon seeing the tears in them slowly stream down her bruised cheeks, the man's breath caught in his throat as he a foreign feeling- nausea- came over him. Flashes of memories and imagined feelings of pain permeated the man's body, and, had they not been locked, his knees would have most certainly given out on him at that moment.  
  
He felt, in a word, useless. There were too many things he could do, but each had its own set of precarious consequences. Thus, he did nothing- simply stood and watched the horror play itself out before his eyes. Now the man was literally feeling sick to his stomach. He felt as though he was watching something horrible happening and choosing not to do anything- as if he'd rather watch the supposed entertainment than make a move to end it.  
  
All through the tense silence, Orlando's eyes never left Faithe's. There was something about looking into her eyes that made him feel like he was doing something, even if was just letting her know he was there. He didn't see Eddie's hand drop from her mouth, nor did he see his finger brush her lip. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he did see a blurred image close in on Faithe's cheek for a moment, however, what it was, exactly, remained unclear. He heard a voice say his name, and a few other words, but they merely entered his mind and went unprocessed. It didn't matter though, all that mattered was keeping his eyes on Faithe's as long as he could- it was his only way of telling her that he wasn't about to desert her.  
  
Then, at last, Faithe broke the two's intent stare to let tears fall down their cheeks. A sorrowful, mourning sort of smile crossed the man's lips as he wished desperately to end the young woman's pain. Yet, there was nothing he could do at that moment save continue to look into her eyes, silently telling her how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he was so useless. Then, her gaze faltered again, this time, though, it didn't return.  
  
quote:  
  
"Ah, that's my girl. I knew you'd made the right decision."  
  
  
This time Eddie's words made it through Orlando's mind, prompting his sorrowful smile to turn into a bitter expression as his teeth bit hard into his tongue. Seeing Faithe be forced to turn away from him, his stomach jolted, knowing what was coming, and he had to tighten his grip upon his wand to keep it from falling through his slackened fingers. As Eddie kissed Faithe, his eyes remained open, yet, the second he saw Faithe kiss him back, they shut. He knew why she was doing what she was doing, but it didn't make the sight any more bearable. That is to say, Orlando felt a sickened sense of jealousy combined with repulsion, which made him a little more sensitive to how Faithe must have felt seeing him and Demeter back two weeks ago. If he were feeling as such just seeing Eddie force his mouth upon Faithe's, how would he feel if things had been the other way? Swallowing, partially to distract himself and partially to rid his throat of the upcoming coffee, his eyes opened at the sound of Eddie's groan.  
  
It seemed like, at that noise, everything happened at once. Jake left his side and returned within an instant, holding Kayte in his arms. Although it took him a moment, eventually the events of the last few seconds caught up with Orlando, or, rather, he caught up with them. Glancing from Jake to Faithe and then back, Orlando gave the other man a pointed look that clearly told him to take Kayte out of there.  
  
"Don't come back," he whispered sternly, gently pushing Jake in the direction of the hallway.  
  
It was times like these that Orlando almost wished he had a little more courage, or, at least, a little more confidence. He wasn't really the type of man to run down to the local telephone booth and emerge, filled with confidence and covered in spandex glory, ready to fight the evil antagonistic beast that awaited him. But, somehow, he found himself somewhere in between that extreme and his typical reserved self.  
  
Raising his wand, he pointed it directly at Eddie and allowed the words of good old Mr. VanExienne's spell sets to echo through his mind and sound out through his mouth.  
  
"Relashio."  
  
The word came out strongly, yet not much about a mezzo-forte dynamic level. At the time when Eddie's hands ought to have flown off Faithe's neck, he spoke again.  
  
"Flipendo. Stupefy. Petrificus Totalus."  
  
Each word that passed through his mouth grew a little more confident. Dueling wasn't something Orlando had even delighted in, although he'd always been told he would be wonderful at it if he could ever focus. Evidently, he had focused now, because the spells continued to roll off his lips as though he'd been doing such incantations all his life and had the strength within him to cast them forever, despite the fact that, with each spell, the man could feel himself getting a little weaker.  
  
Letting out a breath after word "totalus", he instantaneously darted to Faithe and wrapped her fragile body delicately in his arms, pressing her tightly against his chest with only limited regard for her bruises. Although he wasn't applying severe pressure to any of her injuries, one or two of them was probably pressed against him lightly.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he breathed, not even remotely concerning himself with the possibility that Eddie might have dodged the last few spells as he kissed Faithe's head gently. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"  
  
The tighter Eddie's grip got around her neck, the more Faithe tried to struggle, but the weaker her movements got. Gasping for breath, her vision was beginning to blur as her focus of what was going on began to scramble as well. Pretty soon, she was unable to struggle against him. It was at that time that the pressure around her neck ceased, and she gulped in a fresh stream of air. When she exhaled a cry escaped her mouth as Eddie was suddenly forced from the bed.  
  
Laying there, her body trembling violently, Faithe rolled over on her side. Reaching up, she laid her hand on her forehead, still gasping for breath. Every time she exhaled, a small whimper emitted from her mouth. Feeling the bed give way, she almost curled up in fright, until she felt the familiar touch of Orlando. As he pulled her closer to him, she closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest.  
  
Swallowing, she grabbed his wand out of his hand and pointed it at Eddie. Her words came out almost unintelligible, but ropes shot out from the wand and wrapped tightly around Eddie's wrists and ankles. Allowing herself to slump back against Orlando, every muscle in her body seemed to grow limp. Resting her forehead against his collar bone, she closed her eyes once more, still breathing rapidly.  
  
The fact that that entire thing had actually worked was a shock to Faithe. She hadn't figured that Eddie would be that driven by testosterone that he would allow his guard to falter, but then again, Eddie was a stupid, stupid man. Remembering what had just happened, Faithe shot up, looking around the room. Standing up, she walked out of the room, which was no easy task with her knees about as sturdy as Jell-O that had yet to be set.  
  
Hearing soft talking, Faithe headed straight into Jake's bedroom.  
  
***  
  
Knowing Faithe would be all right with Orlando around, Jake did not hesitate to dart into his room. Shutting the door behind him, he made a quick phone call to Joseph, who said he would be right over. After he hung up, he turned his attention to his daughter in his arms.  
  
"Kayte? Come on baby, please wake up." Speaking softly, he nudged her gently with his hand. Speaking softly, he continued to shake her gently. He noticed a small bruise on her cheek, but that was the only form of injury that Kayte possessed. After a few moments, in which he heard a loud thump hit the floor down the hall, a small moan escaped the little girl's mouth as she stirred.  
  
"Kaytlin? Sweetie, come on baby." Watching her intently, tears began forming in the man's eyes as the little girl's eyes fluttered open. Stroking her hair gently, he remained silent as she gradually came back.  
  
"Daddy?" Hearing her sweet little voice, Jake pulled her into a tight embrace, tears streaming down his face. The thought that he could have lost his daughter seemed to hit him full force that moment, but he kept most of his emotions in check.  
  
"I'm here sweetheart. You're safe." Hearing the door open, he looked up, a small smile crossing his face as Faithe walked through. As she collapsed on the bed, he wrapped his arms around her, and she did the same, the two of them embracing Kaytlin in a sandwich. Reaching down with one hand, Faithe gently stroked Kayte's hair.  
  
[[Under the assumption that Orlando followed her, as I asked about in IM. ]]  
  
Looking up, Jake met Orlando's eyes. Lifting one hand, he motioned for him to join the three of them. Which, in a sense, was his way of telling Orlando that he was apart of their family.  
  
In spite of having just cast a plethora of spells, saving the day, and, pretty much, doing everything heroic save emerging from a telephone booth clad in a colorful, skintight spandex suit, Orlando showed no sign of having ever done so. His face was free from every emotion save relief as his arms held Faithe against him. In fact, the man had completely pushed the incident out of his mind. Perhaps it had been too terrifying or perhaps too trying for him, but, for whatever reason, the memory of it had fled his head. It didn't matter, though. Nothing at that moment filled his mind save thoughts of Faithe. He didn't concern himself with the logistics of how the present situation had come to be; all that mattered was Faithe.  
  
Although his questions had gone unanswered, Orlando didn't mind at all. Feeling Faithe's face nestle into his chest and her body encompassed within his arms was more than enough for him. He felt useful again; not because of what he had just done, but rather because he could almost feel Faithe's relief. Just sitting there, holding her, he felt like they were the only two people in the world. There was no Jake, no Kaytlin, and, most importantly, no Eddie. It wasn't until he felt Faithe rise up from him and temporarily pilfer his wand to bind the other man that Orlando even remembered Eddie's frozen body still laid upon the ground.  
  
It was almost poetic justice, the man thought, watching Faithe cast the spell. After all she had been through- all Eddie had put her through- she still had the little strength necessary left to conclude the saga of sorts, making one final declaration that she had prevailed. Smiling sort of proudly, the man readjusted his arms around her body, as it seemed to have become limp against him. One hand gently ran up and down her spine, trying to calm the rapid rise and fall of her back as she breathed; the other wound itself around her neck, matting a few locks of dark hair against it.  
  
"I love you," he whispered softly, "And I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you, Faithe."  
  
((Potential time insert here, I 'spose))  
  
As Faithe's body jerked off of his own, Orlando reluctantly released his arms from around her, allowing a sort of confused look to overcome his face. What was wrong? Yet, that question was soon answered as he watched her eyes dart around the room, and then out, towards where Jake had taken Kayte. Pursing his lips together, he wondered whether or not he ought to follow. He didn't want to leave Faithe's side for an instant, not after having lost her for two weeks and just nearly losing her forever a mere moment ago, and, of course, seeing her weakly struggle across the floor added to that. Then again, Jake had just gotten his daughter back and Faithe was nearly a mother to the girl. He was. well, nothing really to them. True, he was involved with Faithe, but that hardly gave him the right to automatically make himself a part of every aspect of her life.  
  
Eventually, after Faithe had left and he had spend a few pensive minutes upon the bed alone, he did get up. And, on his way out, the thought of kicking Eddie's immobile body crossed his mind. Although the sickening thought was tempting, his past experiences with such abuse would never have allowed him to stomach doing such a thing. Slowly walking through the room, he shut the door upon the way out and turned the same way that Jake and Faithe had both gone. Taking a few more steps, he reached the room the three of them were in, and merely lingered outside for another moment. As his eyes caught sight of the three happy people embracing, celebrating their reunion, a truly content smile appeared upon his face. Everything, it seemed, was right again.  
  
Catching Jake's gaze, he almost turned away. In a sense, he was embarrassed to be there. He felt somewhat. out-of-place. Yet, seeing Jake's hand raise and beckon him, some of that awkwardness left. Offering the man a grateful sort of smile, Orlando crossed the room and sat down, closer to Faithe than the other two, but not too close. The uneasiness hadn't left completely, and he didn't feel right barging in on them still.  
  
Her body relaxed against his as she felt his hand grace over her spine. Closing her eyes as she felt the pressure of his hand on the back of her neck, she buried her head in his chest. Feeling the protection and sanctitudeof his arms, Faithe felt completely at ease for the first time in two weeks. Lifting her head, she rested her forehead against his and lifted her hand gently to his cheek.  
  
"I love you so much Orlando." Whispering, her voice came out trembling, just like the rest of her.  
  
**  
  
Hearing a small whimper from the little girl, Faithe felt Kaytlin's body shift in between the two. Feeling the bed give way slightly behind her, she turned her head to see Orlando sitting down behind her. Giving him a grateful look, she reached back with one hand and took his hand in hers.  
  
A soft knock interrupted the silence, and she turned back to Jake, who looked up. Shaking his head, she turned Kaytlin around to face Faithe, whom immediately snuggled into her aunt. Wrapping both arms around the little girl, she turned towards Orlando and leaned against him. Kaytlin, who's eyes were open, but was remaining silent, reached out and wrapped her hand around a couple of Orlando's fingers. Looking up into his eyes, Faithe rested her head just below his shoulder. ((Assuming this is possible.))  
  
**  
  
Jake made his way to the door, opening it quickly. A smile broke out on his face when he saw Joseph.  
  
"This way. He's in Isabelle's room. I'm pretty sure he isn't conscious, but I wasn't in the room when Orlando took him down." Leading the way, the two men walked back to where an unconscious Eddie lay bound on the floor.  
  
"Are they all right? Kaytlin and Faithe?" A look of hopeful concern crossed Joseph's face as he bent down to check Eddie's pulse.  
  
"Yes, luckily. Just shaken up." Sighing, he crossed his arms as he fought the urge to kick the mess out of the unconscious man. "What's going to happen to him?"  
  
"He's looking at a lot of years in Azkaban, for one thing. Kidnapping a child, bribery, and he used an unforgiveable. I'll just apperate him to the dock so we can take him over." Grabbing Eddie by the shoulder, Joseph did a sort of salute before a loud popping noise announced their departure. Sitting down on the edge of Faithe's bed, Jake rested his head in his hands.  
  
**  
  
"You saved us." Speaking softly, Faithe's eyes never left Orlando's face, taking in his brilliant blue eyes. Looking down, kissed the top of Kaytlin's head softly. The little girl looked up, tears still in her eyes.  
  
"Aunt Belle?" Her voice came out soft with a sort of whiney edge to it as she spoke.  
  
"Yes, baby girl?"  
  
"I have to go potty."  
  
Taking in Faithe's mien, a small smile crossed Orlando's face. Allowing her to pick up his hand, he gently entangled their fingers together and brought her hand to his lips for a moment. The awkwardness was still there, but the comfort that Faithe's acceptance of his pressence there had brought him was gradually easing whatever discomfort still remained within him.  
  
At the knock, the man's body tensed again and, inadvertenly, pulled Faithe's hand a little harshly as he attempted to snatch his wand from its typical location in his back pocket, untangling their fingers in the process. However, the wand wasn't there; it still remained upon the bed in Faithe's room, where he had left it alone with Eddie. His breath caught in his throat for a moment... until he paused to ask himself why Eddie would even bother knocking and couldn't come up with a feasible response. Of course, by this time, Jake had already left and Orlando presumed that it the knocker was someone he had called to the house, probably a Ministry worker from the looks of things.  
  
Whispering an inaudible apology to Faithe, he rolled his shoulder back to allow her head a more comfortable place to lay, moving that arm to wrap around the lower part of her back. Feeling a small hand find its way into his, Orlando broke eye contact with Faithe to look reverently at Kaytlin. The tiny girl had been through so much, and was still standing. Smiling at her, he lifted his thumb to stroke the hand surrounding his fingers before returning his eyes to those of Faithe.  
  
quote:  
  
"You saved us."  
  
  
Whether he was too entranced by Faithe's eyes, too modest, or really just didn't care, Orlando did nothing to indicate he had heard her words. However, at Kayte's words, he did.  
  
Leaning his head a bit, he looked towards her, still smiling for whatever reason. Then, at her last remark, the man let out a chuckle. It was nice to see the ordeal hadn't cramped the girl's juvenile ingenuity and bluntness. Shaking his head, his boyish grin flashed upon his face.  
  
At Kaytlin's remark, Faithe let out a small laugh at the little girl's randomness, and her comedic timing. Relinquishing her grasp, Faithe nodded slightly. Jumping off the bed, Kaytling ran out the door, heading straight towards the bathroom. Shaking her head, Faithe's eyes turned from the doorway back to Orlando.  
  
Sitting up straight, Faithe's smile faded slowly as a pensive expression crossed her face. Reaching up, her fingers ran gently over his eyebrow. Slipping down his cheek, she ran her index finger over his top lip, circling around and running her finger over his bottom lip. Without lifting her hand from his skin, she moved her hand up to his hairline and began twisting a lock of his hair in between her fingers.  
  
Now that everything had passed, Kayte's life was no longer in danger, and Jake had his daughter back, everything was starting to hit Faithe full force. Kaytlin had never been in question; Faithe would have done anything to see her to safety. Instead of catching his gaze with his, Faithe's brown eyes took in every detail of the man's face. Her bottom lip quivered as the scenario of never being able to see him again played inside her head. Rolling her lips inward, she allowed her hand to fall as she looked away. Despite the fact that she had managed to hold in her emotions relativaly well, a few tears slipped down her cheeks.  
  
****  
  
Weeping softly, Jake's body shook violently. Just the same, now that the danger had passed, and everybody was safe, the feelings of fear that had been tugging at him all week were now being released.  
  
Turning his head to allow his eyes to trail Kaytlin's tiny body as it scrambled out the door, Orlando's gaze lingered on the door for a moment before returning his gaze to Faithe. The broad grin was still upon his face as he shook his head at her, clearly amused by Kayte. His lips parted to make a joke of sorts about Kayte's childish comedy, but closed as Faithe's smile faded and the grin faded into a sort of confused look.  
  
Allowing her fingertips to waltz upon his face, Orlando relished in the sensation their soft caress brought. As her fingers took hold of that strand of dark hair, a soft smile placed itself upon his lips. It was amazing how much he'd grown accustomed to Faithe toying with his hair, and having abstained from such things for so long made the feeling that much sweeter. It was about this time that Orlando finally realized what Faithe was doing, or, rather, why she was doing it, and tried futilely to meet Faithe's gaze, following her eyes as they trailed along his face. The thoughts in his mind were similar to hers, except Orlando didn't understand exactly what Eddie's taking Faithe would have meant. He hadn't even considered considering the fact that he wouldn't have ever seen her again if such an atrocity had truly transpired. In fact, he didn't even think of that being a reason for Faithe's actions. He presumed she was just distraught over what had happened regarding Kayte.  
  
As Faithe's hand dropped from his tresses and her face turned away from him, the man raised a single eyebrow inquisitively. Reaching his far hand up, he gently placed it upon her cheek, running his fingers up along her jawline before actually allowing his palm to encompass that side of her face.  
  
"Oh, Faithe." he whispered softly, turning her head back to face him and brushing some of the fallen tears away with his thumb. "Everything's okay now, ma Foi. You're safe, Kayte's safe, and Eddie's gone."  
  
Closing her eyes slowly, her trembling began to cease as his fingertips played over her skin. As he turned her head towards him, her eyes gradually found their way into his. The minute he had spoken, her face crumpled up and more tears began falling down her cheeks. Nodding softly, she took a deep breath, but all that came out after that was a soft cry.  
  
"I know...It's just..." Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and closed her eyes. Rubbing her forehead, a shudder ran through her body as she supressed a sob. Looking back up at him, her eyes had turned pink from the tears.  
  
"What if he hadn't been so stupid? What if things hadn't gone the way they did? These last two weeks have been absolutely horrible without you, Orlando, and the thought of spending the rest of life without you..." Trailing off, she closed her eyes and shook her head again. Burying her face in her hands, her shoulders began to shake as more tears fell down her cheeks.  
  
****  
  
"Daddy?" Kaytlin's sweet, innocent voice interrupted Jake's lament as he sat there on the edge of the bed in Faithe's room. Looking up, his face still wet from the tears that had cascaded down his cheeks, he looked at his daughter. Offering a small, half smile, he held his arms out for his daughter.  
  
"What is it sweetheart?" Walking over to Jake, Kaytline wrapped her arms around Jake's neck. Pulling his daughter into his arms, he hugged her tightly.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Seeing Faithe nearly fall apart like that, Orlando's teeth dug into his tongue; any sort of physical pain was better than the inner one seeing her like that gave him. After wiping away what tears he could with his thumb, he set his hand back down, and looked upon her with a sort of sympathetically sorrowful mien. Gazing into her teary eyes with his own brilliantly blue ones, he offered whatever silent comfort he could.  
  
At the time she spoke, he had been on the brink of pulling her into an embrace, but, instead, seemed somehow entranced by her words. He didn't want to think about "what if"s at that moment, nor ever, if it could be helped. If Eddie hadn't let his guard down, Orlando didn't know what he would have done. Perhaps he'd have been so fixated upon waiting for the right moment that he'd have just stood by and watched Faithe be ripped from him forever. And if things hadn't "gone the way they did", then Faithe may have very well been choked to death. Alright, that was enough bad visuals for one day.  
  
Closing his eyes, he pushed the thoughts to the furthest corner of his mind and shook his head as his arm around her lower back tightened, pulling her closer towards him. The thought of spending the rest of his life without Faithe was absolutely unbearable.  
  
"Hey, now," he whispered softly, gently wedging his fingers between her hands and her face in an attempt to lift her head back up towards his own, "Promise me you'll never think something that horrible again. Eddie's gone, and I don't have the slightest intention of letting you spend the rest of the night without me, much less the rest of your life."  
  
Provided that Faithe's hands weren't still upon her face, he took one of them in his own as his eyes adverted down to her hand as opposed to her eyes.  
  
"I know I might not see you too much this summer," he began, seemingly absentmindedly spreading her fingers apart one-by-one.  
  
"But I'll always be there for you, in a sense," he continued, taking her hand by the wrist and holding it, with its spread fingers, up to wherever her eyelevel may have been.  
  
"See those spaces between your fingers?" he asked softly, sliding his hand (the one on her wrist) up.  
  
"Whether you see them."  
  
Entangling his fingers with hers, a smile crossed his lips as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  
  
"Or not."  
  
Slowly he unwound his fingers from hers, eyes never leaving them, and dropped his hand back to her wrist.  
  
"My fingers are forever locked in them."  
  
Finally, his eyes lifted off of her hand to meet her gaze as a genuine, small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 


	9. Silhouette

From its ominous place in the evening sky, the moon looked out upon SS Ecstasy. Its overcast glow dimly lit the wooden deck planks, creating ominous monsters from the shadows that haunted the deck as the warm yet cool twilight zephyrs crept past. Amidst this picture-book scene, the silhouette of an admirably masculine figure could be seen- black against the majestic colors of dusk. His arms lay crossed upon the railing of the promenade deck, and head was tilted curiously, as if he was looking at something, which, in fact, he was: the stars.  
  
Orlando Corvello Lorenz hadn't planned on coming on the school-sponsored cruise, primarily because he still hadn't completely overcome his hydrophobia in regards to the ocean and such. Instead, he had planned to spend the summer revitalizing that small mountain cottage he had had when he attended school in Maine during the time of the cruise, and then, somehow, still spend time with Faithe (Although he had owled her everyday that the two hadn't spend together thusfar this summer, the simple letters exchanged weren't enough), who would be training nearly all summer, save the time of the school cruise. Yet, somehow, those plans had become contorted when the Headmistress owled him several days into the cruise and informed him that his chaperoning presence was necessary since one of the other professors had been called away, and that, if he valued his job, he would be there within the next day. ((I needed a reason for Orlando to be on the cruise since he wouldn't have come of his own free will))  
  
Thus, after packing a small suitcase, he had come out to the ship on a smaller boat, and had, that evening, arrived on board the SS Ecstasy. The first thing he had done had been to get himself situated in his room; professors were given the single staterooms on A deck, the same deck as the just-graduated seventh years. After throwing his duffle bag upon the bed, he had gone off in search of Faithe's stateroom, wanting to surprise her. Not having had time to write to her, Orlando had left the young woman completely in the dark as to his being on the ship. As far as she knew, he was still in Maine, probably re-roofing the cabin or something of the like.  
  
Amidst the brilliant orchestral performance echoed by the celestial heavens, the dazzling counterpoint chorale enchanting the man was heightened as his eyes waltzed over the constellation Orion; Orlando smiled to himself, recalling how Faithe had told him it was her favorite constellation. The view of the night sky from the ocean was marvelous. Without any city lights interfering, the lights in the sky were ten times more abundant. Their splendor and number was only aided by the fact that this particular night was cloudless.  
  
In addition to the magnificent stars glowing on the serene canvas of the dark nighttime sky, a comet, which Orlando recognized as the Holloway Comet, had chosen to grace the young man with its spectacular presence. The icy ball of rock gracefully pierced through a dark corner of the sky like the sharp cry of a trumpet fanfare breaking the calm air of a quiet morning. Its remarkable tail followed, surrounding the core with an aura of elegance.  
  
Again, a soft smile crossed the man's face as he breathed in the sea air. Growing up on the Hawaiian coast, the salty ocean smell was more than welcome. Averting his gaze from the sky, he turned around and lifted himself upon onto the railing, half-hoping to see Faithe's shadow as he flitted his eyes nonchalantly about the deck.  
  
Excitement flitted through Faithe's body as she finished getting dressed after her shower, drying her hair quickly. Dressed in a light blue, Hawaiian skirt that fell to her ankles, and a white tank top, Faithe slipped on her flip flops. Tying her hair back with a white ribbon at the nape of her neck, she left her room quickly. Making her way up several flights of stairs, the jittery feeling in her stomach increased.  
  
She only got slightly agitated when one of the workers stopped her. A handful of stewards were walking around the ship handing out leis to random people. Instead of the traditional necklace lei, Faithe was given a halo of flowers, which she placed on her head to appease the steward. Nodding politely, she continued her way to the top deck.  
  
Earlier that day, she had been sitting out in the lake under the protection of an umbrella, when the date suddenly struck her as familiar. After searching like a mad woman through her books, Faithe had confirmed her suspicions that there was, indeed, a comet that night. Ever since then, excitement and felicity had been surging through her all day.  
  
Now, after much impatient abiding, Faithe had finally reached the top deck. Stopping as the breeze hit her face, she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The smell of the salt water was something she was learning to get used to, but it was refreshing. Opening her eyes, she stepped out to the middle of the deck, stopping as her gaze shifted to the sky. Catching the glimmer of the Holloway Comet, a smile spread over her lips. Biting her bottom lip, she looked around for an abandoned railing.  
  
Finding one, she walked over to the cold metal, leaning against it. Hanging her arms over the cylinder, her gaze once again rose to the heavens. Smiling as she spotted Orion, her brown eyes became mesmerized in the three stars, all lined up to form his belt. Shifting her gaze to the comet, a look of fascination crossed her face as a small smile played on her lips. Sighing, she looked down at the water for a moment before she became hypnotized by the bright light, slowly drifting across the darkness. I wonder if Orlando is seeing this...  
  
And, then, like an answered prayer, the brilliant blue eyes of Orlando Lorenz caught sight of a shadow sauntering towards the main deck. A broad, excited grin came over his face as the figure followed it and turned towards the deck railing opposite from him. He had known the shadow's identity as soon as he had seen it, but seeing the figure to which it belonged was still welcome. As his eyes wandered along Faithe's body, a quiet gasp escaped his lips; he couldn't help but think that the young woman had somehow gotten even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her.  
  
Slowly, and, above all, quietly, Orlando began meandering across the deck towards her. Seeing her there before him only made the man realize just how much he had missed her thusfar. True, it couldn't have been much more than a few weeks since he'd seen the woman, but it had seemed like an eternity for him. Nearly silently approaching her, he watched as her eyes flit from the sky down to the water below and then back to the sky once more, and his grin softened into a warm smile.  
  
Once he was close enough, his left arm wrapped itself slowly around her waist and his head rested itself momentarily upon her right shoulder, breathing gently against her neck. Reaching his other hand up, he laid it upon her far cheek and turned her head towards his own. Lifting his head off of her, he leaned around her body, gazing into her eyes for a bit before kissing her warmly for a rather extended moment. Finally pulling back, he dropped his hand onto the railing and took a step to stand beside her.  
  
"Hi," he breathed, with an almost unbelieving sort of grin upon his face. "I've really missed that.  
  
"And you, too, of course," he added, grin transforming into a mischievous sort of smirk.  
  
Sighing, her head tilted slightly to the side as she stared at the sky, completely oblivious that Orlando was within a hundred miles of her. The past couple weeks had been torturous for her anytime her eyes found the night sky. The past school year had been filled with so many nights star gazing, but she hadn't been alone during those many late night hours. She had gotten so used to Orlando's warm body next to her as they pointed out constellations, comets, and anything else they spotted. However, lately she had been staring at the sky wondering if he were doing the same.  
  
Jumping slightly as an arm wrapped around her waist, Faithe's insides froze as a head rested on her shoulder. Recognizing the figure, she blinked for a moment, not moving. That's rich Faithe...You miss Orlando so much that you're hallucinating that he's here. Feeling his hand touch her cheek, an almost apprehensive look crossed her face before he kissed her. Closing her eyes, her body melted into him as she kissed him longingly. When he pulled back, a small objective sound escaped her throat as her eyebrows furrowed together in a sulky pout.  
  
Returning the warm smile, she rested her forehead against his, her eyes gazing into his, "Hi." Her voice came out softy, and barely above a whisper as she reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. Laughing softly as he expressed how much he missed their kisses, she wrinkled her nose slightly as she stuck out her tongue. Shaking her head lightly as he added his little afterthought, Faithe gave him a look of unbelief.  
  
"Orlando, what are you doing here? On a boat...in the middle of a bunch of water..." Grinning, she pulled her head back slightly to keep herself from going cross-eyed. Letting out a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, "It doesn't matter! I can't believe you're here! I've missed you so much sweetheart."  
  
((This is quite short, and exceedingly retarded- Surry. [u]Dos[/u] ought to make up for it, though.))  
  
Leaning into her hand, but still keeping their foreheads touching, the man delighted in the sensation of her skin upon his face, something that he had felt only in his dreams for the longest time. The smile upon his face seemed inerasable as his eyes met hers. It was always that way with Faithe though. Save a few inopportune situations out of their control, there wasn't ever a moment he was with her that a smile didn't at least tug at the corners of his lips. She made him happy. He felt warm, loved, content and perfectly completed.  
  
[quote]"On a boat...in the middle of a bunch of water..."[/quote]  
  
Reaching a finger up, he placed it upon her lips.  
  
"Shh," he breathed with a slight laugh, "Don't remind me about it. I'm just out here because I'd like to keep my job for another few years."  
  
As she coiled her arms around him, his own arms surrounded her waist and, pressing her against his chest, he lifted her a few inches for a moment, jovially spinning her around before returning her to the ground and keeping his arms around her. The feeling of her being in his arms again was wonderful- something he'd missed even more than the taste of her lips.  
  
"I've missed you, too," he whispered, "More than I ever thought possible."  
  
Pulling back, he allowed himself a moment to look into her soft brown eyes, shaking his head.  
  
"You see Holloway's Comet up there?" he asked, gesturing towards the sky.  
  
Seeing his face soften with his smile, her grin melted away, replaced by a loving intensity. Her brown eyes carried an expression of sincerity and devotion as her thumb rubbed his cheek lightly. Moving her hand around some, her fingers began toying with his hair, wrapping it around her index finger gently - another habitual act of hers.  
  
Everything within her, her heart, soul, and mind, felt more than complete as she cherished his nearness, and that smile. It was true when it was said that you never know how much you miss somebody or something until it's taken away, and then when it's given back to you. Orlando was her better half, her everything. Being away from him for so long had been almost unbearable. The two weeks after school when she had been transported to the East Coast, and knowing that after this Cruise, she'd be torn away from him for two more weeks made her feel almost desperate to be near him once more.  
  
After those two weeks, though, she would be back in New York, near him, if not with him. That thought had been what had gotten her to go through with this. That, and she had come to value eating and having a roof over her head, so she needed to do it.  
  
Laughing softly about his reasoning for being on the ship, Faithe shook her head in mild amusement. "You're fine sweetheart. Besides, look at it this way, just about any observatory would be willing to hire you after discovering your comet." Nudging him slightly, she wrinkled her nose as she grinned. Hearing him tell her that he missed her caused a small sigh of relief to escape her lips. Not that she doubted him, but she just assumed that he probably had too much on his plate to really think about her much.  
  
Nodding as he pointed to the sky, a small sparkle flashed in her eyes. "I almost busted my butt in the shower trying to get up here so quickly. Are you here for the rest of the cruise?"  
  
Faithe's remark about any observatory being willing to hire him was an incredible understatement. Since he had patented La Strife de la Foi, not a single day had passed where he hadn't received at least one letter or owl from a scientific society pleading with him to come work with them. There had been letters from every organization from the Ministry's department of Interplanetary Magical Relations and the muggle world's NASA to the tiniest research groups in both realms, but Orlando hadn't taken up a single one of them, and no one except him knew why. The man was strange like that, though; and this strangeness was evident in every aspect of how he reacted to discovering the comet.  
  
He had gone about patenting the ball of icy rock in a highly unorthodox manner. He'd gone to a small observatory, put his name on the least amount of paperwork possible, not named it after himself, not publicized his discovery, politely refused interviews from science magazines and such, and, overall, not let his discovery affect him at all. After the hype about the new comet had died down, he'd continued getting pleas offering money, private research facilities and all the treasures any astronomer may have spent his or her life searching for. Orlando didn't accept a single offer though. In fact, he didn't even discuss the offers with anyone, not even Faithe. Instead, after reading through them and writing back a polite refusal, each letter was set neatly into a large box and there it sat. It was true that he could have used the money, and undeniable that the thought of having his own research facility intrigued him, but, taking all things into consideration, he eventually refused.  
  
Taking any of those jobs would have brought him into the market of Astronomical Physicists, something that, although well renowned, wasn't exactly favorable to the man. He was certain that if he took that path, his abandoned family would want back in his life, if only just to get their share of the money, despite their already immense wealth. After the last day of his seventh year, he had simply picked up his things and left for the Cepheus School of Astronomy in Maine without so much as a "good-bye". Neither of the two parties had been too upset by this decision; contacts were severed, and it seemed more auspicious to both that way.  
  
Not only would such a decision have opened that bolted door, but it also would have torn him from Rosencrantz, and his teaching there. Although he could have easily accepted a professor position at numerous universities across the world, there was something about the school that he just couldn't leave behind. Perhaps it was the plethora of memories lurking between every wall and in every classroom, but an intangible force seemed to hold him there. He knew that Faithe wouldn't be there the next fall, that he would still find himself reasonably ostracized from the rest of the staff, and that money would continue to be tight, but he didn't mind. Teaching was a passion of his, as were the heavens, and he couldn't think of a better place to pursue such things than Rosencrantz. It was on safe, welcoming, and tranquil in its place on the outskirts of Manhattan, and he couldn't ask for anything more.  
  
"I like the job I have," he replied in a tone that wasn't threatening, but signified that he wasn't about to change his mind any time soon, if ever.  
  
Noticing the way her breath took the form of a relieved sigh after he told her that he had missed her, a questioning look covered his face for a moment.  
  
"What?" he teased, "Thought I wouldn't miss you?" Rolling his eyes slightly, he offered a small laugh.  
  
"Impossible," he whispered.  
  
[quote] "I almost busted my butt in the shower trying to get up here so quickly"[/quote]  
  
Grinning at her comment, he raised an eyebrow curiously.  
  
"Yeah, I'm stuck in the middle of thousands of gallons of water with my life in the hands of this little piece of metal's buoyancy until it gets back to port," he answered with a sigh.  
  
"As long as I don't think about it, though, I should be alright.  
  
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked, pulling back just slightly, as though he was going to ask her something important.  
  
"Promise you'll keep me distracted."  
  
Grinning, she tufted his hair lightly, sticking her tongue out, "I like the job you have too. I'm very proud of us too, Orlando Corvello Lorenz, we managed to be together and keep your job." Leaning forward, she rubbed her nose against Orlando's lightly, just as she and Kaytlin always did.  
  
A half-smile spread on her face as he teased her. "I just figured you would be really busy this summer. Too busy to bore your mind with thoughts of me." Her half-smile faded from her face, but was replaced by a smile filled with warmth as his reassurance.  
  
Seeing his inquisitive stare at her shower comment, she grinned. "I was shaving, and had my leg propped up on the side of the bath. I was trying to hurry, and my leg slipped. Luckily I didn't cut myself, but I did almost fall." Winking, she bent down and lifted her skirt to her knee, "But I am nice and smooth now."  
  
Hearing him express his partial fears of being on the boat, she smiled softly at him. "You're fine sweetheart. Everything is perfectly safe."  
  
Raising her eyebrow, a flirtatious grin spread over her face. "Keep you distracted, huh?" Stepping closer to him, so that her body was right up against hers, she brought her mouth to within a centimeter of his. Dropping her voice to a low purr, "What did you have in mind?"  
  
"Me, too," Orlando replied, smiling as her nose touched his own. It was true, too. The number obstacles that they had overcome was rather impressive. They'd manage to hide their relationship from the school, control themselves in public, and yet still allow their relationship to bloom into something completely beautiful. And, now, after this cruise, they would finally be able to come completely clean to the entire world about who they were to one another. No more secrets, no more hiding. Thinking of how hard they'd worked all year long, Orlando began to move to look around, remembering that they were still on a school trip where he ought to still be the teacher, and Faithe the student, then stopped. She had graduated, and there wasn't anything against their relationship now. Besides, hidden by the darkness of the night sky, their silhouettes would only look like a pair of students, nothing too conspicuous on a trip such as this.  
  
Chuckling, Orlando's face got a mischievous look in it at her comment about his thinking of her. He had had more than enough time to think about her. Throughout the long days of repairing the Maine cottage, he'd never lost thought of her for more than a few moments.  
  
"I can assure you that 'boring' is hardly the word I'd use to describe whatever thoughts I had of you in Maine, ma Foi," he whispered, dropping to that lower octave that he hadn't used for quite awhile.  
  
Throughout her recollection of the shower incident, Orlando's face wore an amused look, accented by the warm smile upon his lips and the entertained sparkle in his azure eyes. Shaking her head as she lifted her skirt, the smile broadened into one of his boyish grins.  
  
Seeing the flirtatiousness contort Faithe's innocent face into an almost sultry one, the man knew what was coming. As his intuition proved correct and her body pressed against his, Orlando removed his hand from the railing. Placing his hands upon her shoulders, he ran them slowly and tantalizingly down her back; when they had nearly reached the conclusion of her spine, he linked his fingers together and pulled her tightly against him. Smiling at her as her warm breath blew across his lips, he felt his stomach nearly fall out from under him. She's too good at this.  
  
"This works." he whispered back, still holding his voice down in the low octave.  
  
((I'm listening to Completely...**sigh**))  
  
"Of course, it still wouldn't be too smart to walk up to your fellow teachers, particularly the headmistress, and admit that you've been having a relationship with your Head Girl. They could still fire you...possibly." Reaching up, her fingers intertwined with his soft hair, her head tilting slightly.  
  
Watching him look around, she smiled. "Everybody is at the deck party, it would be odd to see somebody else up here." Sliding her hand from his hair to his cheek, she smiled warmly at him, adoring the way he was. Everything about him still captivated her.  
  
((**giggles** I just realized you called Orlando a she...Ha ha! So did I! In my post previous to yours!))  
  
Smirking, she raised her left eyebrow, "So, what did you think about when you were in Maine?" There was a mischievous curiosity about her as she looked at him expectantly.  
  
As she leaned against him, she'd had every intention of pulling back, but her objective had been erased from her mind as his hands ran down her back. Her eyes closed for a moment, opening when his hands hooked around her. Allowing herself to be pulled closer, a small shiver ran through her body. Her knees felt as if they were about to melt as he spoke in that baiting tone. A small half smile crossed her face at his words, her brown eyes seemingly growing darker.  
  
"It does..." Whispering softly, her half smile melted into one of adoration and love. "Of course, you do still owe me a game of dominoes..." Reverting back to the joke on the train to Manhattan all those months ago, a playful smirk crossed her face.  
  
((**runs off to change gender issue**))  
  
Smiling as though he were drunk as her fingers wove themselves through his dark locks, Orlando merely shrugged at her comments about him being fired. They'd lasted this long, and he wasn't worried about anyone finding out now. Besides, as she had said, no one in their right mind would be out stargazing when there was a party going on.  
  
The drunken smile turned into a devious smirk at her question about what he had thought of in Maine. Closing his eyes, as though he were recalling such feverish fantasies, the man let out a chuckle before looking back at her.  
  
"Domino games," he replied in a voice that suggested that, if one didn't know the English language, would have suggested something rather, well. suggestive.  
  
With her body pressed so tightly against his, Orlando felt the tiny shiver ripple through her body and grinned with the slightest bit of satisfaction. However, at her soft whisper, which seemed almost like a purr to his ears, the grin faded and was replaced by a smile at her mention of their forgotten "domino games".  
  
"You'd better hope no one's watching us, Miss Cunningham," he whispered, never once allowing his stare to falter as his azure eyes remained locked into her dark brown ones.  
  
Unwinding his fingers from each other, he wrapped one arm completely around her waist while the other hand slid tauntingly up her back and hooked onto her shoulder for a moment. After lingering there for a moment, it slipped around her arm and behind her neck, fingers slightly caressing her skin as his breath softly brushed her face, gentle as a morning zephyr.  
  
"Because I do believe that, should someone stumble across us, this scene would be most incriminating to your perfect record."  
  
As much as Orlando longed to lean in and kiss her, satisfying the burning lust building within him, he didn't. He would wait for her to crack, making him the victor in their little teasing battle.  
  
A reverent smile crossed her face as Orlando's lips curled in that smile. the smile that always seemed to cross his face when she tussled with his hair. Which, she noticed, was becoming a habit of hers. Her face tilted curiously as he closed his eyes and she stuck her tongue out when he didn't really answer her question.  
  
[quote] You'd better hope no one's watching us, Miss Cunningham[/quote]  
  
"Why? Ashamed of me?" Winking to show she was teasing him, a mischievous grin played on her lips. As his hand slid up her back, however, the grin melted into barely a smile, but more of a pleasurable expression. Closing her eyes, she felt her knees almost give out on her, her neck tilted slightly as his hand massaged it. Opening her eyes, a shiver ran through her body as his breath tickled her lips.  
  
At his words, her lips curled up in a grin as a soft laugh escaped her. Shaking her head, she stared at him adoringly. At this point, she really didn't care where her credibility stood with Rosencrantz. She had graduated, they couldn't do anything to her. However, she did worry about Orlando's credibility, and his job. Even if she had graduated, she had still been his student, and they would find someway to find out that they had been together while she was his student.  
  
"I don't care about my perfect record, sweetheart." Sliding her finger gently along his jawline, she smiled at him. "I'd give up anything for you. Even if it incriminates my 'perfect record'." Unable to handle the distance much longer, though there was hardly any space left between the two. Leaning in, and wrapping her arms around his neck, she closed the distance between the two. Kissing him, she wrapped her arms around him tighter, almost scared that he'd be mean and pull away from her for the sake of teasing her.  
  
"Ashamed of you?" Orlando repeated with an incredulous air to his voice. "I'm hardly ashamed of you, [I]ma Foi[/I]."  
  
Although he had known full well she was just teasing him, the man couldn't pass up such a prime opportunity to shower the impressive young woman before him with compliments. She knew full well that he adored her, but there wasn't a doubt in Orlando's mind that she would have a problem hearing such words escape his lips again.  
  
"You're accomplished, intelligent, compassionate, strong, determined and motivated. You just graduated as Head Girl at the top of your class. And, as a charming additional benefit, especially for yours truly, you are absolutely beautiful."  
  
Allowing his voice to trail off, there passed a moment in which, had he not been so adamant about holding to his resolve not to kiss her first, the man most certainly would have pressed his mouth to hers. Yet, he resisted the impulse, instead allowing the shiver that passed through Faithe's body satiate him for the moment.  
  
[quote]"I don't care about my perfect record, sweetheart."[/quote]  
  
Shaking his head, Orlando decided he'd have a better shot at winning the silent battle if he relinquished his gravity and, like Faithe, split the tension with light-hearted conversation.  
  
"Mm-hmm," he replied sarcastically, "You're an Athenian, Faithe; your perfect record's right up there on your list of 'most prized possessions'. right after me, of course."  
  
Feeling her finger bourée along his jawline, the man's eyes closed for a moment and that drunken smile crossed his face once more.  
  
"I know," he whispered back, reverting to a somewhat serious tone, "And I'd do the same for you."  
  
It was definitely a good thing, in Orlando's mind, at least, that Faithe had moved to kiss him right then. Otherwise, the man was sure he would have broken.  
  
One hand ran along her back while the fingers of the other entangled themselves in the loose strands of hair of her ponytail. Kissing her back, the man almost smiled through the kiss. He'd missed her, truly and madly. Now, standing on a boat in the middle of nowhere, with her in his arms, the man was reassured that they were meant for each other. If he had spent an eternity apart from her, thinking of her incessantly, and still felt so strongly about the young woman, there wasn't a doubt in his mind.  
  
Gently pulling back after a brief while, he rested his forehead upon hers and let that boyish grin take over his face as a small laugh escaped his lips.  
  
"I won."  
  
((*cues Tealyr Montague's entrance from stage left*))  
  
"One of these days, I swear to God, I'm going to become an (expletitive) murderer...I'm going to hang these (expletitive) brats by their toenails off of the (expletitive) stern..."  
  
Growling underneath her breath, Tealyr Soleil Montague lethargically ascended the steps onto the deck. There were deep circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, which had made her even more disagreeable than usual. And, perhaps, disagreeable is an understatement. Quite an understatement.  
  
A cigarette rested firmly out of the corner of her mouth as she climbed the steps. Only another hour of peace before she had to attend to her teacherly duties--namely patrolling the halls for those in violation of curfew. You would think that being the headmaster's daughter would allow her to enjoy her summer--but no. You would think that being the flesh and blood of one of the most prestigious headmistresses in the history of the school would allow her to spend her summer someplace nice, where she could just get away from it all, temporarily forget the fate she was doomed to...but, evidently not. Instead, she had to be subjected to the torture that she endured the rest of the year, where nightmares and reality had become one and the same. Brats, brats, brats...filthy, stinking, obnoxious Satan spawn everywhere she turned...Oh, the horror...  
  
Taking out her wand, she lit the cigarette and took a deep drag off of it. Replacing her wand in her pocket, the woman paused as she passed the top stair. The night was calm and balmy. How picturesque, how calming, how uplifting--how disgusting. Her brown eyes flitted over to the party that was going on at the end of the deck. She was definitely going to steer clear of that area. Students...packed into every square inch...chattering and giggling...bumping and grinding...ugh. However, the large attendance at the party meant that the other areas of the ship were probably fairly empty...maybe, just maybe, she could finally get five minutes of peace and quiet...  
  
She plucked the cigarette from between her lips, holding it between her index and middle fingers. A few dark brown strands of hair lingered over her face, occasionally moved by an evening breeze. Casually, she began to prowl along, looking for something to relieve her feelings of despair and worthlessness. There was nothing better than some good, old-fashioned discipline to relieve stress. Aha! Students kissing on the deck! Smirking malevolently, she quickened her pace as she walked over. The night cast everything in shadow; the perfect kind of atmosphere for the mayhem that, unknowingly, would commence as a result of her unusual discovery.  
  
"Mmm mmm mmm," she mused as she approached them,"Teenage lust. How touching...One problem...the Cruise is supervised, by teachers, nonetheless. Identify yourselves...now."  
  
Faithe's face turned a bright shade of red as his compliments met her ears. Her face lowered slightly as she shook her head, that bashful smile on her face. Lifting her eyes, but keeping her head down for the most part, she shook her head a little bit more firmly.  
  
"You're such a good liar..." Reaching up, she pinched his cheeks gently. Laughing at his comment, she grinned. "Yes, well, my perfect record does mean a lot to me, but I'd be willing to give it up for you. Of course, it's underneath you." Wrinkling her nose, she stuck her tongue out at him playfully.  
  
With his forehead on hers, her hand reached up and laid gently on his cheek, her eyes remaining close. After a few moments, and after his declaration, she opened her eyes and grinned, an impish expression in her eyes.  
  
"I let you win. I figure, why not? I'm already up on you." Laughing softly, she rubbed her nose up against his. Of course, she was only partly being serious. Had she tried to hold out any longer, her knees would have given out on her.  
  
Identify yourselves...now. Everything in Faithe's body came to a halt, including her breathing. It wasn't until she felt her head getting dizzy that she remembered to breathe. This couldn't be happening, not now. Swallowing hard, she stood up straight, almost afraid to look in Orlando's eyes. She knew she should turn around, but Faithe just couldn't bring herself to do it.  
  
Returning Faithe's soft laugh with an Orlando-y grin, the man nuzzled his forehead against hers, wondering how he'd lasted this long without her.  
  
Hearing Tealyr's familiar, authoritative voice proclaim their doom, the man's stomach dropped out from under him, instilling fear throughout his entire body. 'This can't be happening...' Warily, his eyes flitted past Faithe, focusing in on the young woman's recognizable figure and reassuring himself that he wasn't hearing things. A horrible sort of terror ensued upon him just then, comparable to that which he felt when he had entered his house every evening as a boy; he knew he would be punished, but how?  
  
A plethora of thoughts was dancing through his mind. The almost comical irony of the Head Girl and the Head of Athena being busted for kissing on the deck, the twisted irony of the woman seeing them being Tealyr and, most of all, how he was going to get out of this mess.  
  
The most obvious solution to their problem would have been simply for Orlando to apparate the pair back to his stateroom or something. It would have been easy enough; after all, Faithe was already in his arms. However, this thought didn't even occur to him as he stood there, not quite moving and barely breathing.  
  
Keeping the eerie silence in tact, he shared a worried glance with Faithe before gently guiding the girl to the side of him, still allowing her to shield her face from Tealyr's gaze if she so desired, but placing his own face clearly in the woman's view. His eyes held a look of terror while the rest of his mien was unreadable, almost vacant, as he waited for her response, knowing that, because of their past, the events to come wouldn't be pleasant ones at all...  
  
Hand on her hip, Tealyr had gone to take a drag from her cigarette at the exact moment when Orlando's face came into view. She was so shocked that she forgot to exhale and ended up swallowing smoke. Chest heaving forward, she broke into a coughing fit, pounding her chest with a fist as her eyes remained as wide as saucers.  
  
"Lorenz?!" she choked out, coughing some more. Breathing deeply, she stood back up and her eyes narrowed. "I mean, Lorenz," she quickly spat in a much more unpleasant tone. It was Orlando Corvello Lorenz...Ooh, she wanted to just cringe at the name. She had spent the previous years of her teaching career trying to avoid this man at all costs...and she had just intruded upon him kissing someone under the stars.  
  
Her eyes flitted over to the young woman in his arms, still facing the other direction. How embarrassing, she thought, smirking internally.  
  
Taking a step forward, she looked from Lorenz to the woman and back to Lorenz again. With a bit of a bewildered smirk, she studied the young woman- -or what she could see of her--in his arms. She gave a bit of a snort. Well, she wasn't in uniform, so she didn't think that she was one of the staff members...And she didn't think she was a teacher from another school-- if she was, Tealyr would've already met her...Wait...wait...wait a minute...was that a student?!  
  
She noted the look of horror in the other Professor's eyes. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she tilted her head slightly. "What is going on here?" she demanded in a low, deadly, though awfully confused, voice.  
  
Orlando hadn't even wanted to come on the cruise in the first place for a plethora of reasons. This particular situation, however, hadn't been one of them, but was, by far, the worst thing that could have happened, save, maybe, him finding out Faithe had snuck around and ended up with a male roommate and not even thought of him once. Knowing the latter to be an impossibility, his mind concurred that, indeed, [I]this[/I] was the worst thing that could happen.  
  
Waiting and watching the woman's reaction, the man merely stayed put. Intuitively feeling Faithe's fear, he allowed his arms to shelter her, covering her as best he could and doing a remarkable job of keeping her identity unknown to Tealyr for the moment. Mentally recalling their joke about her perfect record and their good standing with the school, Orlando closed his eyes, almost believing in jinxes for a minute. This was precisely what he had feared, what he had tried so hard to prevent that morning when he'd told Faithe that they couldn't continue.  
  
Yet they had somehow pushed that thought out of their minds and used their combined intelligence to preclude such a disaster. Throughout the entire school year, they'd managed not to even let the slightest hint of their relationship creep into the open, keeping it locked behind his door and hidden from prying eyes out on the hillside he'd taken her that first night. Now, all that work was for nothing. He had known there were too many risks like this; not only could their relationship hurt him, but it could also ravage the girl's credibility with the school as well as her peers and her family. Even so, looking back, he knew that he wouldn't have changed the decision he made that morning to be with Faithe. She'd brought too much good into his life. There had to be a way around this mess.  
  
Watching as Tealyr recognized him and listening to her words, the man's look of terror transformed into one of slight bewilderment. If taken literally, her question had been redundant; what was going on was obvious- she had walked in on him kissing a young woman. But her question wasn't to be taken as such. Orlando knew what she wanted- an explanation as to exactly who this girl was. Judging from the look in her eyes, she had already deducted Faithe was a student, but hadn't quite figured out her identity, or, hopefully, not even which school she was from.  
  
"Do you have to ask, Tealyr?" he said quietly.  
  
Tealyr had known him quite well though, and he was sure that, soon enough, the woman would figure everything out. He didn't enjoy water, therefore wouldn't be on the cruise if he didn't have to be, and, seeing as a professor had left the previous day, he was probably replacing them. Noting the passion with which he had been kissing Faithe, she'd guess they had been together for quite some time. Knowing Orlando's feelings about women, the young girl would probably be an Athenian, and, from that deduction, as well as the color of the hair protected under his arm, she would presume Faithe's identity. Ah, yes, Orlando could see it now: their entire world falling apart.  
  
But maybe, just maybe, there was a way out. if he could convince Tealyr to keep her mouth shut, which wouldn't be too easy of a task. Orlando considered himself an honest man, and asking Tealyr to lie in essence didn't bode well with his conscious, and he was sure it would do the same with hers. Not only was corrupting their integrity a problem, but also the fact that Tealyr and he weren't exactly close anymore. After the Demeter incident, she too had seen things in a different light and their friendship became another casualty of that event.  
  
Sighing inwardly, he closed his eyes and took a breath. Re-opening them, he glanced at Tealyr with an almost pleading look in his eyes. Somehow he had to make her understand.  
  
Tealyr had opened her mouth to give him a reply, but she seemed to be unable to say anything cynical, degrading, or witty. Actually, for the moment, she seemed to be unable to say anything at all. Knowing Orlando for all those years had given her plenty of insight into his personality...She knew that he was a very genuine person in need of affection...he had his parents to thank for that...but a student?!  
  
She spitefully tossed her cigarette butt down to the deck and put it out with sole of her shoe, taking another few steps forward. She stopped at about a foot away from them, one hand resting on the railing. This was just too much. Tealyr, still staring at Orlando with that same disgust and loathing that she had had for him ever since their disagreement, now turned her cold eyes to the student in his arms.  
  
"Don't play games with me, Lorenz," Tealyr snapped, still staring at the back of Faithe's head and trying to recognize her. Getting frustrated with this attempt, she glanced back at her former comrade, frozen to his desperate expression. She still wanted to know the facts; who was this girl, what was she doing kissing Orlando, and why they were together in the first place. "Dammit, Lorenz, what do you think you're doing?!"  
  
Standing there, absolutely petrified, Faithe couldn't bring herself to turn around. A plethora of emotions were rolling through her very being, but most of all was guilt. How could she have been so careless? This was her fault. Orlando's job was on the line because of her. He had tried to put an end to their relationship in the beginning, but Faithe had somehow managed to guilt him into giving it a chance. Look where it got him now...  
  
Though she felt some comfort by his attempt to keep her face hidden, her entire body was tense and beginning to tremble. She had never known that Tealyr and Orlando really knew each other, but the disdain that was evident in both their words conveyed a message to Faithe that they knew each other better than she had first thought.  
  
...what do you think you're doing?! Even as she stood there, silently, a plan had been ensuing in her mind. There was a way out of it, she knew that much. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Turning around suddenly, there was a sudden resolution inside of the Rosencrantz alumna.  
  
"He's not doing anything. This isn't his fault." Her voice came out shaky, but there was a truthfulness about her countenance. Sighing, she stepped away from Orlando, standing to the side of two, facing them.  
  
"I bribed him. I've been bribing him all year long. My brother's best friend made a bet with me at the start of term that I couldn't make a teacher fall in love with me. I have this massive problem with not being able to turn down bets. I did a lot of digging around the school and found out about his past with his ex-girlfriend. I told him if he didn't go along with me so I could win the bet then I would spread it around school." For the second time in her life, Faithe was thankful she had grown up on a stage. Every word out of her mouth stabbed her in her heart, but on the outside, she appeared completely genuine. Looking from Orlando to Tealyr, she bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.  
  
"I also warned him that if the staff mysteriously found out about it, I'd squeal." Sighing, she lowered her eyes to the boat floor. Swallowing with difficulty, she wondered how she was managing to say all this without throwing up. Clearing her throat, she looked up at Tealyr before she spoke again.  
  
"Tonight was supposed to be the last night. I'll go pack my bags and line up a boat to leave immediately. I've graduated; I have no reason to stay. You won't see or hear from me again." Turning her gaze from Tealyr to Orlando, there was a seriousness in her expression. "Either of you. I've caused enough trouble, there's no need for anymore to be had on my account."  
  
"Not over something as stupid as a bet." These words were said to Tealyr, but her gaze was unable to shift from Orlando's eye until after her last word. Turning to Tealyr, where she was sure she would be meeting a very unfriendly face, Faithe took a step back. "His credibility doesn't deserve to be abated for something he couldn't really help." Turning away, she made her way quickly to the stairs, tears peaking in her eyes. Practically running down the stairs, tears were already cascading down her cheeks by the time she reached the bottom step.  
  
Ever pleading, Orlando's eyes had remained intense all throughout Tealyr's confused, yet spiteful, remarks. His head had shook at her first comment; he wasn't playing games, and she knew it. Getting frustrated and rather anxious as her eyes remained cold and disdainful, he felt the tension grow. The prospective future was looming over his head like the blade of a guillotine- ready to strike him down at any moment.  
  
[quote]"Damnit, Lorenz, what do you think you're doing?"[/quote]  
  
The inflection she put on his name, compiled with how she had used his last name, brought about a sense of dread to the man. They had been so close as friends that it hurt to bring back the disdainfulness they'd reverted to two years ago and, henceforth, had forgone by means of simply staying away from each other. Now, though, in spite of her tone, he could tell that the woman before him was just frustrated, and, still, like two years ago, couldn't understand him.  
  
She had asked him a question, though- given him a choice- and he could choose to run away, or, he thought, he could choose the road less traveled and speak the truth. Opening his mouth, he had been ready to spill everything to his once good friend in hopes that, maybe, just maybe, this time she would understand. then Faithe spoke. Her shaky words were quiet, yet still audible, and, yet, above all, unexpected. His eyes darted towards her, radiating confusion as he let up his arm and allowed her straighten her spine, never once thinking that she would step away from him like that. With the situation as it was, they were together against Tealyr; now it was Faithe versus Orlando and Tealyr. Too shocked to say anything, he remained silent as Faithe spoke.  
  
At first, his jaw merely dropped. What was she doing? Executing some sort of master back-up plan? No, she was speaking too strongly and with too much passion. For a moment, Orlando was worried- scared that the words coming out of her mouth, save the bribing part, were true, and that she had just been too good of an actress. The last words of that thought echoed in his head, though, and, in the span of another moment, his mind concocted another idea: Faithe was lying to get them out of trouble. His mind jumped back to the previous thought, though, at the allusion to Demeter. Faithe, of all people, knew how badly he'd been hurt by her, and she wouldn't bring it up so casually. unless she had to-back to the other point of view.  
  
With almost each sentence that the young woman's sweet voice spoke, Orlando's thoughts switched sides. He didn't know what to believe. until her last words. The look in her eyes was undeniably true- she was leaving him, and not for anything of either of their doing, but because she was being her own selfless self.  
  
'[I]Damnit, Faithe, why can't you ever just care about yourself?[/I]'  
  
He knew exactly what she was doing- giving up everything because she thought it would be better for him. But, what she couldn't see was that by her just giving up, she was just throwing away the entire past year. All their memories, feelings, the trust they'd come to earn (and re-earn) from one another, the security they'd brought to one another's life, and the love they'd shared. He knew that if he was feeling as he did then she had to at least be feelings equally as desolate, and Orlando wasn't about to add a perfect relationship to his collection of failed ones over something as trivial as Tealyr seeing them.  
  
As aforementioned, Orlando Corvello Lorenz was hardly a violent or even vengeful man. He used his magic for good and, on occasion, stupid little things like cleaning up French toast batter or summoning discarded clothes from the lake to his bedroom, but, only when faced with no other choice would he ever use it to harm someone else. But, in this particular case, the man knew that, if worse came to worse, he would cast a memory spell on Tealyr Montague and make her forget ever seeing them.  
  
It wouldn't come to that, though. At least, he hoped it wouldn't. He knew Tealyr to be a reasonable woman, and, in spite of their trials, toils and strife, he believed her to still be as such. She wouldn't turn him in. No, she'd remember their friendship and, if nothing else, have some sort of conscience. She had to; there was no other way.  
  
As Faithe turned and made for the stairs, gaining momentum with each step, all logical thoughts were pushed out of the man's head save one: keeping Faithe. Some part of his mind warned that everything Faithe had done just then- everything she had given up- would have been done in vain if he went off after her. Still, he couldn't just let her leave like that. She'd think he thought he was better off without her, that he bought into her whole story about how having her wasn't worth his credibility, that he didn't love her. No, he couldn't let those thoughts invade her mind. provided that was what was happening; he still wasn't sure.  
  
Shaking his head at Tealyr, he met her gaze with eyes that were oddly soft, free of the disdain that had clouded them whenever he had met hers before in the past two years.  
  
"Please, Teal. Wait here?"  
  
And with that, he bolted off after Faithe. Catching up with her at the bottom step, he wrapped her in a sort of hug, preemptively fighting whatever efforts she would make to break free.  
  
"What [I]was[/I] that, Faithe?" he asked, just loud enough for her to hear him. His voice was defined, but still radiated the hurt and confusion within him.  
  
Tealyr crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and leaning leisurely against the railing. She continuously nodded and gave curt 'mmm- hmm's and 'uh-huh's throughout Faithe's speech, occasionally tapping her foot or examining her nails. Tealyr couldn't bring herself to entirely believe the story. It didn't make sense.  
  
Firstly, Faithe's reputation preceded her. There wasn't a day during the school year that talk in the staff room consisted of praise about the 'wonderful Faithe Cunningham.' Every other Rosencrantz teacher couldn't help themselves from commenting about how intelligent she was, how attentive she was, how reliable and well-mannered--oh, such a role model. She had no knowledge of a previous disciplinary record--after all, Faithe was Head Girl. Secondly, she had known...or thought she had known Professor Lorenz to be an intelligent, sensible man. He wouldn't have gone along with something that could put his whole future in jeopardy just because of some juvenile bet--even if there was a threat to his reputation, there were memory-modifying and secret-keeping spells to make sure his credibility stayed intact. Thirdly, if she was, indeed, a bet and a bribe, wouldn't witnesses be necessary in order to verify that he did, indeed, fall in love with her? Why bother taking part in the bribe when no one was around to make sure that she was following through with the bet? Finally, while this wasn't exactly solid evidence that stated that her story was incredible, the fact was that there were few loopholes, if none. Children who lie frequently know how to lie specifically to be believed--one doesn't keep adding details to cover themselves. Tealyr could always spot a good liar-- she had been one herself. "It's like when a child is lying, nervously, for the first time in front of their parents. "Johnny, where's your homework?" "The dog ate it." "We don't have a dog." "Well, we do now!"  
  
Tealyr just didn't believe it--and watching Orlando run after Faithe confirmed her suspicion. She snorted in a mixture of disbelief and disgust. He had called her Teal...like they were buddies or something. Puh-lease! This whole situation was just...incomprehensible. And she STILL wanted to know what was going on, damnit!  
  
Disregarding Orlando's plea, she watched him walk below and then she slowly followed, stopping just out of the range of sight near the top step. Unable to hear anything, she looked over the edge of the railing and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Turning away, she leaned against the railing and lit up another cigarette. "What have I gotten myself into..." she mused darkly.  
  
Feeling the restraint of his arms around her, Faithe was almost too stunned to say anything. Or even react for that matter. As soon as she comprehended who was behind her, she began to wriggle fiercely. However, her strength was nothing compared to Orlando's, so trying to get away from him wasn't going to work.  
  
Sighing frustratedly, Faithe shook her head for a moment. Finally, turning around, her eyes met his.  
  
"Orlando, what are you doing?" Half moaning the question, there was a look of confusion and despair on her face. Why did he leave Tealyr? That was the dumbest move he could have made. Sighing, she lowered her eyes as she sought for an answer to his question.  
  
"Orlando," speaking quietly so that her voice was barely audible to Orlando, let alone the spying Tealyr, Faithe forced her eyes to dry up," This is my fault. You were apprehensive about this from the beginning because of a situation like this. You have a job you love at a school you adore, and I refuse to be the cause of something you love so much being put in jeopardy." After she spoke, she made an attempt to wiggle away from him.  
  
((Man, does this suck.))  
  
Faithe's words confirmed the man's earlier fear that she was letting her guilt manipulate her selflessness. Letting out a breathy sigh, he resisted her attempt to squirm free of his embrace, refusing to let her go due to his fear of her running off. Tightening one arm around her small body, the other's hand reached up to brush the salt-water streams from her face, noticing that the tears themselves had ceased to fall.  
  
"Faithe."  
  
He spoke her name quietly, but it was still filled with that sweet sincerity that the man nearly always spoke it with.  
  
"How can you even think that my job is more important than you? More important than us?"  
  
His voice was quiet and eerily calm as he spoke, in spite of how confused his mind was; his eyes complemented his voice, telling her that he was speaking the truth; and his hand added to the effect, wiping down her face and settling gently upon her shoulder.  
  
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back, too cagey to rest it upon her forehead with her wriggling as she was. She had been right when she'd mentioned that he'd been apprehensive about their relationship. in the beginning, that was. He had known the risks of such a thing, but, as aforementioned, he knew that, if given the opportunity to go back and change the decision he made that morning, he wouldn't.  
  
"Is this what you want, Faithe? Truly?" he asked looking back into her eyes, not as certain as he once had been that her answer would be the one he longed to- and needed to- hear.  
  
Silently, a thought, or rather, a memory entered his mind.  
  
"Don't make this decision based on what you think I can or cannot handle. If this is what you truly want because you have different feelings, that's one thing, but don't make this decision based on technicalities that can easily be gotten around," he whispered, repeating the words from his mind with just a few barely noticeable alterations.  
  
"Believe me when I tell you this, Faithe: I love you," he whispered, completely sincerely.  
  
"And just because the unthinkable's happened doesn't make this the end. Even if all hope is gone and it looks as though the jig is up, it's not. As long as we still love each other, it'll never end, Faithe. no matter what happens.  
  
"And, keep in mind, nothing's happened yet. Just because Tealyr knows doesn't mean anything."  
  
Giving up on any attempts at an escape, her body slumped against his arms. Watching him with sad eyes, she bit her bottom lip to keep her emotions in check. Opening her mouth to answer his question, nothing came out. Closing her eye, she lowered her head.  
  
She knew what he was trying to do, but part of her wished he hadn't done this. She loved with Orlando more than anything, which was why she didn't want to put his job on the line. She told him that she would give up anything for him, even if it meant walking away from everything she had come to know and love.  
  
Hearing him repeat those words she had spoken to him what seemed like a lifetime ago, Faithe dropped her eyes. She knew Tealyr wouldn't just let this drop. The disdain and impatience in the woman's voice had given that away. Swallowing hard, she looked back up with him with more regret than she had ever felt in her life.  
  
"I'm leaving Orlando..."  
  
Although the party at the far end of the deck may have been loud, Orlando had drowned out the noise. To him, the base of the stairwell was completely silent, save even the quietest noise that Faithe made. Waiting for a response, the moment of silence seemed like a sickening eternity to the man, lasting longer than his entire life thusfar. She had to understand; this was one of those things that she just had to understand...  
  
In that moment, like most moments in the man's life where the core of his being hung in limbo, time passed slowly. A second was a minute, a minute and hour and so forth. In that near-minute of silence, his eyes remained locked on hers for every elongated second. At first, they searched hers, trying so desperately to foresee the words that would come out of her mouth, or, if not that, just to see what she was thinking.  
  
'Tell me what you're thinking, Faithe...' his mind screamed. Yet the shout was only noticeable in the way the man's eyes had become a swirled slate blue instead of their typical light cerulean.  
  
After a seemingly long while, something lit up in her eyes- that spark of regret, which, within seconds, had grown into a warmly somber fire within those brown orbs. He could see it now.  
  
'No... this isn't happening. She has to understand...'  
  
Beginning to gnaw absentmindedly upon his tongue with his molars, the man's front teeth dug almost viciously into his lower lip, trying to prepare himself, physically, for the pain that he could see coming while trying to prevent that pain with his eyes. Soft, sincere and pleading, they gazed into Faithe's, turning a near periwinkle color as they begged her to understand.  
  
Her words dug into him, and his breath caught in his chest, causing a sort of quiet, choking gasp to escape his lips.  
  
Why was she doing this? Tealyr knowing wasn't a big deal; she wouldn't tell. She'd remember their friendship and keep their secret. Everything would be just fine. Faithe was overreacting, and it was causing her mind to contort things. Yes, that was it. She was simply overthinking things, believing that he would lose his job over their relationship.  
  
Although Orlando considered even that and impossibility, even if it were so, he knew that he wouldn't care. He had meant what he had said, too: he'd give up anything for her. Those words hadn't been trite- they'd been genuine. He would give up the world for her not because he wanted to see her happy (although he did), but more for a selfish reason: as long as he had her, the world didn't matter to him. Why couldn't she see that?  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a most painful sigh. Re-opening them, they searched hers, trying to make some sort of connection with her.  
  
"No, you're not," he replied, securing his grip upon her waist.  
  
Taking his hand off her shoulder, he ran it upon her face, hoping that his fingertips' caress would have some effect on her- any effect on her.  
  
"I'm not letting you go when I know you don't want to."  
  
Faithe felt like the worst person in the world at that moment. When Kaytlin had been taken, she thought she would never be put in a situation where guilt was such an adamant part of her emotions. If she stayed, and Orlando lost his job, she would never be able to forgive herself for doing that to him.  
  
Staring into his dark eyes, she felt lost. Unsure of what to do or what to say, she simply stood there. His eyes, which were normally twinkling with excitement, now held an unhappiness. An unhappiness you caused him Faithe. This is your fault, all of it. If you stay, you're going to cost him his job. You aren't worth that.  
  
Feeling his arm tighten around her waist, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep her breathing steady. When she opened them, there were tears on the verge of falling, but she held them in. Feeling his hand on her face, her head tilted instinctively towards his hand. Sighing at his last comment, she dropped her eyes. She wanted what was best for Orlando, and her leaving would be just that. Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes back up at him.  
  
"You go talk to her. I'm going to my room. If she agrees to keep quiet, with no strings attached, then I'll stay. However, if she threatens to tell, or comes up with some sort of catch for remaining silent, I am leaving."  
  
Feeling her lean into his hand, a flicked of hope crossed Orlando's eyes as they stared into Faithe's. only to be extinguished in a matter of milliseconds by that hauntingly familiar swallow. His attempt had been futile. Why, though? What had happened between when they had been kissing one another and that moment right then that could have possibly affected her so much? Did she really think that keeping his job was worth more to either of them than the other? No, surely Faithe couldn't believe something as ridiculous as that. she was too smart.  
  
Yet, as she spoke, offering him a sort of ultimatum, he found himself unsure. It almost sounded as if she didn't want to be with him at all. that, maybe, it had just been some sort of joke. Sighing, he let his hand slump down to her shoulder and, from there, trail down her arm until, at last, it hung reluctantly by his side. Confused, frustrated and dejected, Orlando had given up.  
  
"Maybe that's a good idea," he replied, with an expression that can't really be described ((think Sharon from AE on the line "Maybe going is a good idea")).  
  
Dropping his hand from around her waist, he took a step back, completely separating himself from her physically as she had done to him emotionally.  
  
He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide something. Then, moved to turn around.  
  
"Did you even ever love me, Faithe?"  
  
The words came out in a sort of hushed whisper, and, although he had tried to make them sound bitter, they only reflected hurt.  
  
Not even leaving her time to respond, he trudged up the steps, praying that Tealyr wouldn't have gone anywhere.  
  
Halfway up the steps, Tealyr's figure came into view, leaning against the railing, and a sigh of half-relief escaped the man's lips. Walking over, he stopped about three feet from her, waiting for her to say something because he knew that, if he were to open his mouth right then, the only thing that would come out was a sob.  
  
Even though she had initiated the thought of her leaving, hearing it come from his lips was like a stab in the heart with a serrated knife. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she swallowed. Closing her eyes for a moment, she forced herself to nod. Opening them, a few tears betrayed her and slipped down her cheeks. She fought to breathe as he detached himself from her, feeling as if part of her had just been torn from her body.  
  
Did you even ever love me, Faithe? A look of utter shock crossed her face as Orlando's words hung in the air, a look that rivaled her expression all those months ago in the hotel. A small, inaudible whimper escaped her throat as her knees threatened to give out on here. Hearing Orlando question something like that absolutely killed her. How could he not know that she was doing this for him?  
  
I should have asked you that when you cheated on me... Angry at herself with her thoughts, Faithe was eternally grateful she had not vocalized them. It wouldn't have helped the situation, and she knew regret would have overtaken her had she allowed them to slip out. Watching him go, Faithe felt as if she were watching her heart and soul leaving her.  
  
Turning, she walked away. Struggling to keep from losing it, she stopped by the service desk. The earliest she could get out of there was an hour, which gave her time to pack and brood.  
  
By the time she was pulling her key from her pocket, her tears were continually flowing. She felt hurt and lost, unsure of what lay ahead of her. Slamming the door shut, she threw the key on the table. Opening her suitcase on the bed, she began shoving clothes in it roughly, not bothering to fold them. Reaching for her watch on the nightstand, she pulled her hand back and knocked a glass of water onto the floor.  
  
Her nerves rattled when the sound of the breaking glass filled the silence. Letting out a frustrated scream, Faithe bent down to pick up the glass. Only, instead of following through, the floodgates opened and she began sobbing. Burying her face in her hands, she allowed her pain and frustration to pour out.  
  
Tealyr slowly stood up straight, raising both eyebrows. Orlando looked severely upset. Shifting uncomfortably, she took another drag of the cigarette. Her expression was devoid of any sort of sympathy, but there was a bit less animosity too. "Lorenz," she hesitated, "now will you tell me what in the hell is going on here?"  
  
Glancing over his shoulder, a pair of gray-blue eyes met Jacques Kerouac Hilton in the mirror. He sighed and glanced away, averting his eyes to the blade in his hands. He sat cross-legged upon the counter of the sink. The florescent lights inside of the bathroom stared down bleakly at him. He sat in silence, occasionally prodding his skin with the knife, digging the tip into his flesh to see how far it could go before he drew blood.  
  
For hours he must've sat this way, sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, brown hair falling forward. His eyes were the main indication of his pensieve reverie. They were clouded and troubled, far-off and thoughtful. He hadn't really done anything to himself yet; he just sat there. There were a few red spots where he had poked himself and one small, thin, barely noticable scrape, a bit like a papercut. He seemed to come to some resolution, for he sat up straighter and his eyes focused. Raising the knife, he braced himself...and then froze.  
  
There was the slamming of a door...someone had come in...Overcome with dread, he sprung off of the counter and peeked through the sliver of open space between the doorframe and the almost-closed door. His eyes widened, feeling his stomach drop out of him. It was Faithe.  
  
Hurriedly he scrambled with the drawers, shoving the knife inside the box of facial tissue in the bottom drawer. He made a frantically poor attempt to put everything back in its proper place. The Athena slowly and apprehensively opened the door, rolling his sleeves down speedily and catching his breath at the sight of the sobbing Faithe.  
  
His eyes traveled from the broken glass before her, to the carelessly placed keys, to the clothes strewn about the suitcase. "Oh my God," he gasped, "hurrying over to Faithe, his bare feet treading through the spilled water, "Oh my God, Faithe, what's wrong?!"  
  
He stared in horror as she wept, the mere sight of her fallen form stabbing him through the heart. He wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her, but he was afraid that she wouldn't want that...that she would push him away. Whipping out his wand, he cleaned up the broken glass.  
  
"Faithe...please...what's wrong?" he asked quietly, eyes wide with horror. Sweet, easygoing, reserved Faithe...sobbing like this...it wasn't natural...it was beyond unsettling...  
  
Pursing his lips together, Orlando merely stood there for a moment in silence. He couldn't talk yet; he could still feel that unswallowable lump lingering in his throat and wasn't about to let Tealyr see him cry. Perhaps he would have if they had still been close friends, but not with the way things were now.  
  
Her words echoed through his mind as a vacant look overcame his face. What in the hell was going on? He was reasonably sure that whatever he had Faithe had had was gone just then, but exactly how it happened. that was the part the man hadn't a clue about. It was eerie really- almost haunting in a sense- the feeling the man felt at that particular moment, which was one he had felt at but one other time in his entire life: two years ago, to the date. Confusion, betrayal, guilt. a mix of other emotions coursed through his body, yet the feeling itself couldn't possibly be described in any amount of words.  
  
"I think I just lost the best thing I've ever had." he replied quietly, "and I don't even know how it happened."  
  
Tealyr's eyes widened and she gave a snort of disbelief. She glanced back at the base of the stairs and then towards Orlando again. Staring at him, she tilted her head slightly. She didn't know what to feel. Orlando Lorenz having a relationship with a student?!  
  
"You mean...you...her..." she stumbled, "The best thing you ever had? The best thing you've ever had?!"  
  
She couldn't believe it. Standing up straight, she began to pace slightly, taking another drag of the cigarette to calm her mounting nerves. Biting her lip, she glanced at Orlando again and then back out into the vast abyss. She was shocked.  
  
"What's her name?" she inquired quietly, shaking her head.  
  
Throughout Tealyr's reaction, Orlando's face never lost its look of vacancy. His eyes were glassy, and held a certain ambiguity in them, lost in the swirled slate blue color. He hadn't really thought about how Tealyr would react, or how he would react if the roles had been reversed, but he knew he didn't exactly appreciate her incredulousness. Then again, how was she supposed to react?  
  
Still keeping the vacant look upon his face, he offered a slight nod as she repeated his last phrase. Faithe had been, by far, the best thing ever in his life... The time spent with her had been more amorous than that with Demeter, more thrilling than broomstick rides through the stars, and more fulfilling than teaching Astronomy. ((And that sentence sucked... How cheesy!))  
  
Watching in silence as Tealyr seemed to take on a pensive demeanor, Orlando took a quiet breath. Fear resumed running through his veins. Again, he felt as though he were a little boy again, filled with trepidation as he waited to see what kind of terror would unfold itself that night.  
  
"What's her name?" Looking up, his eyes met hers, although, rather than look into hers, his gaze seemed to look either past or through her.  
  
"Isabelle Faithe Cunningham," he replied just as softly, "You know who she is, Tealyr."  
  
"Faithe Cunningham?!" she repeated, flabbergasted. Looking awway, she snorted again. "The head girl...You have been swapping spit with the head girl..."  
  
Tealyr realized that she was now trying to smoke a cigarette butt and threw it down upon the deck, pulling out another one with shaking fingers and lighting it. "So is there anything else you'd like to confess? Any other tiny, little secrets--white, little lies--you've been keeping up?"  
  
Shaking her head, she leaned against the railing again. "I never thought--" she began, and then resumed, "Let me ask you something. How did you honestly think that you'd be able to maintain something like this under secrecy? Did you truly believe that no one was going to find out what you have been doing with the students of this school?! You're insane, Lorenz...this is...this is just ridiculous..."  
"You have been swapping spit with the head girl..." Well, that was certainly one way to put it. A very vulgar way to put it, but a way to put it nevertheless. What more could one expect from Tealyr Soleil Montague? She wasn't exactly the hopeless romantic Orlando was and therefore couldn't possibly have been expected to find the endearing innocence in a kiss. Sighing, Orlando's vacant look seemed to thaw a bit, giving the woman a sort of knowing look that seemed to say "Obviously..."  
  
At her next prodding question, Orlando remained silent. Confessions... The man hadn't too many of those to make. Those things he thought people should know, they knew. Other than that, he didn't see a need to exploit his personal affairs for the entertainment of others. Perhaps if he and Tealyr had still been close, he might have mentioned his rendez-vous with one Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance back in Manhattan (then again, if he had been close with her, she would have been the first to know about such an affair), but, given current circumstances, the thought didn't even cross his mind.  
  
As Tealyr continued speaking, Orlando remained still, casually allowing his eyes to remain fixated upon her. Little did the woman know that they -had- maintained something like that under secrecy for nearly the entire year, and, if he hadn't been so careless, no one would know even then. SHe didn't seem to understand though. It was as though she didn't get the fact that Orlando loved Faithe and that they were so right for each other... Just like with Demeter, Tealyr was seemingly unable to comprehend the emotions involved. To her, it appeared that Orlando was just in one careless relationship after another.  
  
"Student," Orlando corrected her as she implied Faithe hadn't been the only one.  
  
"I've been with her since September, Tealyr. We've obviously done a rather good job of keeping ourselves a secret from the rest of the school..."  
  
"You WHAT?!" she cried, astonished. Might it be noted that the author apologizes for any repetitive adjectives from this point forward--there are only so many ways to write the word "surprised." Anyways, Tealyr began sputtering again. "But you...she...how did you...UGH."  
  
"You're such an idiot, Orlando," she spat. She had finally dropped the resentful formalities for a more informal manner...a resentful informal manner...but an informal manner nonetheless. "First that whore, and now one of your students! I can't believe this..."  
  
"Do you have any idea what this means?" she demanded, giving Orlando a 'I- can't-believe-you-are-so-incompetent' look, "Forget the end of your teaching career, this could be the end of Rosencrantz and its credibility..."  
  
Sighing agitatedly, she huffed once more on the cigarette. "This is positively disastrous," she muttered, "and, on top of that, genuinely outlandish."  
  
Wither her face buried in her hands, Faithe hadn't even noticed Jacques's entrance into the room. Or even the fact that he had come from the bathroom. So used to being alone, it had never occurred to her to see if her roommate was in the room. The disappearance of the broken glass went unseen by her normally observant brown eyes.  
  
Eight years' worth of pent up anger, bitterness, and pain were finally beginning to shower out of the eighteen year old. Not once did she allow her tongue to lash out foolishly at her parents' possessive control over her life. Or at Jake for sticking up for them. She had shown patience and tolerance of Eddie's constant attempts to get somewhere with her. The only time since she was a child that Faithe's tears had run away with her had been during Kayte's abduction.  
  
Her entire life had been spent trying to live up to the endless expectations the world had seemed to throw at her. For once she had found something, someBODY, who didn't hold that same expecatation for her, and it was falling down the drain. A distant voice resounded in her head, though it wasn't that of Jacques.  
  
Astronomy, Isabelle? That's foolish! You cannot make a living with your head in the stars! You're a Cunningham, not an insolent dreamer and gazer! Her father's condescending voice replayed in her head. Sobbing harder into her hands, a violent shudder ran through her body.  
  
Your brother graduated in the top five of his class. You can do better than that. Never settle for less than what you can achieve. The goading voice of her mother replaced her father's voice. Faithe had never seen a point in striving so hard for academic excellence when her parents refused to let her use it for her future.  
  
They love you, Izzy. Their way of showing us how much is by making sure we do what is best for them. Jake's calm and rational voice only upset her more. It was easy for him to say that because he wanted what they did.  
  
Did you ever even love me? The most painful memory of all. Orlando had been the first person to love her for who she was, and not because of what she was capable of. Those two weeks when they hadn't spoken had been tortorous. Now she was looking forward to a lifetime without the man she loved.  
  
Faithe...please...what's wrong?" Upon hearing Jacques's last plea, Faithe finally heard his voice for the first time. Feeling an icy chill sweep through her, she slowly lifted her head to look at him. The last thing in the world she wanted was for somebody to see 'perfect little Faithe Cunningham' losing control of herself. Wiping her eyes in a futile attempt to cover up her outburst, she shook her head.  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
As Tealyr reprimanded him, there was a part of Orlando that still carried fear. Perhaps it was because of his abusive childhood, but the man felt like, at any moment, Tealyr would begin thrashing upon him. While this part existed, there was another that, although still timid, felt its resolve strengthening with each word she said.  
  
Although what he had done might not have been exactly legal or "right" according to the educational code, Orlando felt that it did still hold a least a little bit of sanctity. There was something about love- not lust- that was innocent, respectable and admirable. Tealyr didn't seem to understand that part of it, and Orlando didn't hold it against the woman, who he hadn't ever really known to be in a serious relationship where love was the central focus.  
  
As Tealyr trailed off, sputtering random words and phrases, Orlando answered her half-spoken question.  
  
"How?" he repeated quietly, "We fell in love, Tealyr."  
  
His eyes dropped themselves down to the deck as she denounced his mental capabilities. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps...  
  
"That whore"  
  
Hearing those words, Orlando's head snapped up and his sorrowful blue eyes lost their desolateness and glowed a fiery cerulean.  
  
"Don't you ever call Demeter that, Tealyr," he threatened loudly, but not so much as to allow anyone other than Tealyr to hear, "What happened that night was my fault, not hers. You're never going to accept that, though, are you?"  
  
Sighing with frustration, he shook his head and resumed staring her down, although his eyes eventually did lose the bitterness as they glared at her. At some points, her words almost made sense to him. Yet, at others, she seemed entirely strung up on the beliefs society had raised her to have.  
  
He found it rather hard to believe that what he had done could ruin Rosencrantz's credibility. After all, he hadn't pushed Faithe into anything, they hadn't done anything more than kissing, neither of them had done anything wrong... save fall in love with someone that society told them they shouldn't. If he had been a student there, no one would have had such a fit that a seventh year was going out with a fourth year; there might have been some casual childish teasing, but certainly no major reprimands from the staff. Three years of age wasn't so bad... unless the two people whose relationship was in question were from different sides of that line.  
  
'But,' the man wondered, 'since when is falling in love such a heinous crime?'  
  
He considered vocalizing that thought, but knew better than to use something so idealistic in an argument with Tealyr Montague...  
  
Sighing, he took a step towards her, with a countenance that almost looked as though he was trying to make some sort of peace treaty with the woman.  
  
"As I said, Tealyr, no one, except you now, knows..."  
  
"Stop fooling yourself, Orlando!" Tealyr retorted, "Don't tell me to accept anything--you need to accept that, yes, she is a whore! And regardless of what you wanted, the fact is that she made no effort whatsoever to try to prevent the whole fiasco that ensued after the two of you..." Here she stopped, restraining the word that had been on the tip of her tongue, "...were together."  
  
She watched him carefully, about to sigh with relief as she saw a change in his expression. However, she knew it was too good to be true, and grit her teeth as he stepped forward. She inhaled from her cigarette and, for a moment, was tempted to blow smoke in his face--but decided against it and turned her head to the side as she exhaled.  
  
"And it's obvious you're expecting me to do you this little favor," Tealyr snarled, "and keep this knowledge to myself. I suppose you think that is is just supposed to be okay with me. Is that what you want? Do you want me to risk my own neck just so you can keep yours nuzzling with that pretentious little brainchild's?"  
  
Shooting him a look of loathing, she tossed her head and glanced out at the ocean once again. She informed firmly, not looking at him, "I don't think so..."  
  
If Orlando had ever wondered why exactly he and Tealyr had gone there separate ways, he was just reminded. Demeter was a touchy subject with Orlando in general, especially since the man blamed himself completely for the consequences of that night, and Tealyr's contradictory opinion never fared well with him.  
  
"Prevent the whole fiasco?" Orlando repeated, so bitterly that one might have thought him possessed if they knew him at all. "And how was she supposed to do that, Tealyr?" His voice was louder now, almost to the point where someone else might have heard it, yet not been able to make out the words. Taking a step towards Tealyr, Orlando flung his hands up in frustration, yet his overall demeanor was still burning with anger.  
  
"She was nineteen! Young, stupid, naive, trusting... innocent."  
  
With each further adjective, the rage in his voice died away and was replaced with guilt and remorse.  
  
"I took that away from her, Tealyr, and I can't ever give it back..." he said quietly, voice now barely above a whisper. "So don't even start to tell me that it was her fault."  
  
"And it's obvious you're expecting me to do you this little favor" Although Tealyr had been rather dead-on with most of her words so far that evening (save the Demeter remarks), that was where she was wrong. At this point, Orlando truly couldn't care less about what happened to him. His credibility was nice, but Tealyr seemed to care a lot more about Rosencrantz' s credibility than he did.  
  
His life was sort of a dream at the moment. He'd lost Faithe, and for what? He didn't even understand why she'd left him. It wasn't as though her leaving would prevent Tealyr from telling. For a moment, the man considered telling Tealyr to go ahead and tell her mother, because he'd already lost his life. But, what would happen to Faithe if such a scandalous affair erupted? Her life would be ruined, because of him. Whatever feelings of malice the man had towards the young woman a cause of not understanding her actions, he wouldn't wish any harm upon her.  
  
"No," he replied, although the word came out as more of a choked gasp. "I've already lost her...  
  
"I want you to realize that I'm a rather desperate man at the moment and that if you want to say something that'll ruin Faithe's life, then I might be tempted to take out my wand and modify your memory a bit."  
  
Tealyr's expression hardened, her resentment now back in full force. "I dare you to try it," Tealyr hissed, "If you even -point- your wand at me, then I 'might be tempted' to shove it up your ass."  
  
Still, she did take two steps away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. Her hand slid up to her pocket where he wand lay. The last thing she needed was to get into a duel with another Professor. She shook her head slightly, staring at Orlando as if he was some unsettling stranger- someone that she hadn't really known at all.  
  
"Innocent?" she repeated incredulously. "Innocent?! Hardly! She was a dirty little slut! She just couldn't wait to let you get in her pants! And because of her 'fun and free' ways, she put you through a hell of a lot that you shouldn't have had to deal with!"  
  
This was all too familiar. Hadn't they yelled these same things back and forth at each other, only a short time ago? Weren't these same words spoken, these same insults said? It was sad, really. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.  
  
"I warned you. I warned you from the moment you told me that you were attracted to her. I knew that she was trouble and you didn't listen to me! To me, of all people! I had your best interests at heart, and you didn't think that was good enough!" Tealyr exclaimed. She hadn't realized how strong her hurt and frustration from all that time ago could still be. "Now look at you! You are still senseless! You are still a fool!  
  
"You fell in love. You fell in love. You know, Orlando, for something that is supposedly 'so right', you have all the wrong reasons."  
  
((*grins, squeals* I am [I]so[/I] proud of this post!!!!))  
  
Listening to the woman speak, Orlando went silent- eerily silent. His face adopted a chilling vacant expression; the skin seemed to hang off of his face, his lips slumped as if they had no muscles within them, and his eyes were as though they were made of glass. He looked desperate, but almost in a state of shock- as though he didn't know what was going on around him. Or, perhaps did know what was going on around him, and thus was his reason for appearing as such. He remained like that as she stepped back from him and put her hand to her wand. Although he had seen her do so, his expression wouldn't have given that away- it looked as though the man was in a trance of sorts. paralyzed.  
  
Throughout her incessant torrent of snide remarks about Demeter, too, the man remained frozen, physically, though his mind was churning. This scene was all too familiar. The setting may have varied, but the actors, their roles, emotions and dialogue all remained hauntingly unchanged. Tealyr was still living under the assumption that Orlando had been infallible, that it had been Demeter to spark the incident and the repercussions it brought her fault alone.  
  
"[I]Dirty little slut. put you through hell. I knew. you didn't listen to me. look at you. still a fool. you fell in love. all the wrong reasons.[/I]"  
  
Broken fragments of Tealyr's words resonated through the man's mind, echoing off the walls of his cranium and bouncing back, their nagging message louder and louder each time. '[I]Shut up, shut up, shut up![/I]' his mind shouted, unable to take anymore, but the violent diatribe was inexorable.  
  
For a moment, it seemed as though all hell was about to break loose. Orlando's mind was swarmed with thousands of pesky emotions and memories, clouding its perception and paralyzing whatever logic lay within his mind. His left hand reached into the back pocket of his jeans and procured the Maplewood shaft, adorned with a single unicorn hair, which lay there. Fingers trembling, they wrapped around it and held it down at his side. There passed a moment where Orlando's brilliant blue eyes darkened to a near navy color as he glanced first at the wand he held and then back to Tealyr as something foreign shone through in them- complete, genuine malice.  
  
Within that moment, hundreds of hexes, curses and wicked incantations ran rampant through his mind- spells he had only read about in books, or news clippings about Lord Voldemort's fiendish deeds. Within that moment, the man wanted nothing more than to avenge Demeter, to avenge Faithe and to forever silence the twisted part of his conscious embodied in Tealyr Soleil Montague. A simple three-syllable spell to silence her endless affronts, an uncomplicated single-utterance incantation to remove the vision of Faithe and himself from her mind, and an impassioned two-word curse to end the torment the irksome bit of truth in her words brought to him. Yet, in spite of that ardor burning inside of him, the man couldn't bring himself to commit any of the three crimes.  
  
His fingers ceased to quaver upon the wooden rod and his mien softened in a sense as the anger within him melted into hurt and bewilderment. Tealyr's condescending reproof hadn't just been scolding him for his actions, it had been condemning him: stupid, foolish and ridiculously obsessed with the idea of love. She had a way of getting to him: her words sounded like those of his mother, yet, unlike Evelyn, Tealyr's words were spoken with Orlando in mind.  
  
"[I].that you shouldn't have had to deal with.I had your best interests at heart.[/I]"  
  
Not once had Tealyr ever outright blamed Orlando for anything; she had always seen him in a different light. It was always those around him who ought to be blamed for whatever misfortunes befell upon him, he was just too idealistic to see the way things were and it was she who was trying to help him realize such.  
  
There were so many things floating about in Orlando's mind that he might have verbalized at that moment, yet, bemused and forlorn, the man's lips formed a single, quiet, yet coherent, response:  
  
"Why do you insist upon acting like you still care about me?"  
  
Completely and utterly confused, Jacques sat up straight. And at the realization of what her words meant, his face fell.  
  
So she couldn't tell him. Well, that was fine, he guessed. Biting his lip, he studied Faithe worriedly. It pained him so, so much to see her like this. He didn't know what to do. She couldn't tell him... That was okay. Really. He frowned and slowly stood up, faltering.  
  
Maybe, just once, he had hoped to be there for Faithe like she had been there for him.  
  
He swallowed nervously. A hand rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He gave Faithe no immediate reply. Limply, he set the now-restored glass on the table where it had been and walked back into the bathroom.  
  
Putting both hands on the sink, he leaned forward, glancing down the drain. Gray-blue eyes travelled down into that grimy abyss. The silence was killing him.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" Jacques asked, doing a good job of keeping everything other than friendly concern out of his voice.  
  
Tealyr was speechless.  
  
Halfway through another furious reprimand, she stopped. Her mouth hung open slightly, all further reproofs quickly fading away. She narrowed her eyes slightly in thought, as if she hadn't heard what he told her correctly--but she knew exactly what she had heard. She blinked once, twice. Closing her mouth, she frowned and looked away.  
  
And before she knew it, a tear had formed in one of her eyes. She blinked and it began to fall; embarrassed, she turned her back to him and wiped it as quickly as possible. Oh, this was just ridiculous. She didn't even know why she had started to 'tear up.' Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes again and looked down at what was left of the slender "cancer stick." She tossed it out into the water and turned back to look at Orlando ambiguously, throwing up her hands in a gesture of defeat.  
  
"You're right," she said simply, "I don't know what I'm thinking. I'm wasting my time...and yours."  
  
She walked, head bowed over to the stairs that led to the teacher and seventh year's cabins. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she did not look up, but spoke clearly enough for him to hear her. "I do care about you, Orlando...well, no, scratch that. You're right. I did. I don't anymore....not anymore..."  
  
And with that, she sighed quietly, descending the stairs in silence.  
  
How about a new life... Picking herself up off the ground, she stared bitterly at the suitcase with her clothes thrown carelessly inside. What was she going back to? A life she didn't want? Granted, her option was higher than that of her parents' idea, but still...not the life she wanted. The life she wanted was off arguing with Tealyr Montague. Of course, he was defending his ex-girlfriend more than their relationship, but Faithe didn't know that.  
  
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she stared at the glass that had been in shards moments before. Picking it up, her eyes took on a faraway expression. Tilting her head slightly, she ran her finger over the brim. The tears that had been falling had suddenly stopped as she became obsessed with the clear glass.  
  
Slamming the glass down against the corner of the table, she watched as it shattered once more. Bending down, she picked up a rather large shard and stared at it.  
  
"Tell me something Jacques..." Raising her voice loud enough so he could hear, she spoke with amazing calmness considering she had just been bawling her eyes out. "What does it feel like?" Taking the glass in her left hand, she turned over her right hand, staring down at her wrist.  
  
"Does it bring that relief everybody says it does?" Tracing over one of her veins with the sharp end of the glass gently, her head tilted slightly.  
  
Jacques flinched at the sound of the breaking glass, immediately looking out from the bathroom to see what had happened. He frowned at the sight of the broken glass--had she not wanted him to fix it? He stared as she picked up a piece.  
  
Her questions were extremely unexpected...and quite unsettling. Jacques blinked, confused at first. "What do you..." After a moment, his expression changed to one of apprehension. No, that was an understatement. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. All of the color rose to his cheeks.  
  
"Faithe...you...no..." was the only thing that came to mind. He stopped, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes fell. He could allow Faithe to do that...but what position did he have telling her not to, when he might as well have been an expert on the subject? Jacques shook his head slowly, eyes widening.  
  
He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to retch. She knew...how did she...well, of course she did. It wasn't that hard to know that something was going on. He had scars...plenty of them... Putting a hand to the side of his face, he leaned his forehead against the doorframe, sighing and scrunching up his face in an effort to keep out the emotion that was threatening to overtake him. "No...you don't know...please, Faithe, please...please don't..."  
  
Looking up at Jaqcues, her face remained the same, her eyes unblinking. He had no idea what she was going through. No idea whatsoever.  
  
"I know I don't know Jacques, that's why I'm asking you. We've been friends for almost a year. I'm an Athena alumni, you of all people should know, I have observation skills. So, tell me." Looking back down, she moved the glass to the base of her wrist, her eyes glancing back up at him. "Does it help?"  
  
She needed some way to take out her anger, her pain, and her frustration. This seemed the easiest way. Faithe could never hurt anybody else, it wasn't in her. Herself, though a thought that had never occured to her, was a different story. She's put herself in enough messes, and was tired of dealing with them.  
  
"No, Faithe, no, it doesn't!" Jacques said frustratedly, looking up and taking a step away from the door frame. The emotion had won. Angrily, he turned and walked back into the bathroom, punching the mirror. He stepped out again and held up his hand, blood now trickling down it.  
  
"Do you see this? This is what it's like! It's shooting yourself in the foot over and over again, being so strongly addicted to the sight of blood that anything, anything can trigger thoughts of harming yourself!" he paused, looking down at his hand again, "I can barely feel this. This is -nothing- to me. And I find it absolutely absurd that you would even suggest trying it!"  
  
He stormed forth and attempted to pry the glass from her fingers. "Please, Faithe, don't," he pleaded, yet his voice remained firm, "I'm begging you. Once is not enough...once is never enough...I can't let you do this!"  
  
Reverting to his chilling silence, Orlando simply tilted his head, watching the woman before him as she made it halfway through several actions. At first, she looked as though she was about to continue their shouting argument, but it passed. Then, she looked as though she might just say something, perhaps ask him to repeat his statement, although it was obvious she had heard him, but it passed. Finally, she turned away from him.  
  
Almost sorrowful light blue eyes followed her as she turned away, and the man bit his bottom lip uncomfortably. He didn't like the fact that she had turned away from him- he couldn't see her eyes that way, and, if he couldn't see her eyes, he couldn't possibly know what she was thinking. As she turned back to him, though, he found that it hadn't been necessary for him to see her eyes in that moment she had been turned from him; the way in which her hand had wiped her face just then told him what he needed to know. After all that time filled exchanging bitter remarks, Orlando's had been the first to draw blood.  
  
He hadn't meant to hurt her, if that's what he'd done. Of course, he presumed he had- Tealyr Montague wasn't one to cry easily. Part of him felt a sick sense of satisfaction- as though he'd given her what she'd been asking for. Another part of him, though, wanted to run over and take the woman- his friend- in his embrace and apologize for everything. But there was yet another part of him that prevented both things from occurring: the confused part.  
  
What was happening? It was as though, in the last half-hour, everything Orlando had known to be true in the world had suddenly become false: Faithe didn't love him, Tealyr cared about him... Everything was turned upside- down.  
  
Her soft words seem to hold a sense of defeat to them- something foreign to the woman's normally strong, confident voice- and Orlando's mien seemed to soften drastically, almost into an apologetic one. He wanted to say something, but didn't know what could be- or should be said, thus he remained silent.  
  
Watching her as she retreated, his hand reached out absentmindedly, as though he could magically stop her by doing so. There was a nagging voice in his mind, telling him that, if he let her go, she would tell her mother about him and Faithe. But, looking at her, he knew otherwise. Something had happened to Tealyr Montague in the last three minutes that changed her, wounded her...  
  
"I do care about you, Orlando...well, no, scratch that. You're right.  
I did. I don't anymore....not anymore..." Hearing her hushed words, Orlando didn't know what to think, although it was undeniable that her words had prompted the man's breath to sort of catch in his chest. As aforementioned, everything that seemed right was wrong and everything wrong... right. Thus, he, too, resigned with a sigh and a wipe of his hand over his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tealyr..." he whispered, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear.  
  
Looking down as he lost his temper, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her body jumped as she heard the sound of the mirror cracking, her head shooting up. Watching him come closer to her in an attempt to take the glass from her, she shoved back. Rolling over to the other side of the bed, she stood up and backed against the wall.  
  
"Stay away from me." Her voice was now shaky, scared that he would take her weapon away from her. Tightening her hand around the glass, she felt the side of the glass pierce her skin.  
  
"So, what, Jacques? It's good enough for you, but not me? It's ok for you to take your problems out by mutilating your body, but not me? You have no idea what I'm going through." Not even aware of what she was doing, she dug the tip of the glass into her skin. Looking down, she pulled the glass up, watching as the blood trickled down the side of her wrist.  
  
"It's not 'good' at all!" Jacques yelled back, "It's horrible--disgusting-- vile! It weakens you...it makes you a slave to your own negative emotions...anything makes you want to cut! I can't even use a butter knife without thinking about hurting myself with it!"  
  
He slowly, cautiously began to walk around to the other side of the bed, his eyes filled with desperation. They traveled down to the small stream of blood that had started to flow. "Stop it!" he cried, both pleading and demanding, "Faithe, please, stop! Don't do this...please, please don't do this...Of course I don't know what you're going through! I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! Maybe I would have some idea if you would just tell me!"  
  
"Then why did you do it?" Yelling back, she looked back down, squeezing her eyes shut for a few moments before opening them. She felt sick to her stomach. Everything inside of her was churning and she felt as if she were going to be sick.  
  
"I can't, Jacques." Her protest came out more like a whine than anything. Looking down, tears peaked at the corner of her eyes. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't..."  
  
"I can't tell anybody." Dropping her eyes, she stared at the piece of glass in her hand. Faithe? What are you doing? This isn't like you. Her rational voice was trying to speak to her, but she shoved it aside. She was tire of being the rational one. Tired of being the calm, reserved one. Tired of holding everything inside of her.  
  
Piercing her skin once more, she slid the piece of glass up a centimeter before lifting it up. It felt like a release. Swaying slightly, she leaned against the wall to support herself. "I just lost Rosencrantz the best Astronomy teacher its ever had."  
  
Jacques went pale as he saw her cut herself once more. "I thought it would help!" he screamed, "And sure, it does for a while! You can make yourself forget anything if you want to! But after awhile it all comes back, and you realize what you've done, and you're worse off in the first place because not only do you still have the problem in the first place, but now you have a displacement of fluids that can make you go unconscious! Then you've got pain, pain, and only more pain!"  
  
He would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to get the glass away from her. Thus, he advanced towards her again and tried to wrench the piece of glass from her fingers with more conviction, unconcerned as to whether to had to harm himself to do it. "Mr. Lorenz? You lost Mr. Lorenz?" he asked, bewildered, grunting occasionally as he attempted to get the glass from her, "What are you talking about?!"  
  
Her own complexion was beginning to grow whiter as she stood there. Not so much because of the pain, because she was too numb at the moment to feel much of anything. It was as if the realization of what she was doing was slowly beginning to settle into her mind. Leaning against the wall, her eyes drifted up towards where Jacques was walking towards her.  
  
Her irrationality was telling her to move, to get away from her. She needed this piece of glass right now, she was dwelling on it. Faithe was beginning to wake up, staring down at her arm as if seeing it for the first time. When Jacques approached her and made another grab for the piece of glass, she closed her eyes and let her hand fall down to her side. Giving up the piece of glass, she slid down to the floor and hugged her knees. Tears had once more begun to fall down her cheeks as she stared straight ahead, fixated on the bottom of the comforter of the nearest bed.  
  
Something inside of her knew she could trust Jacques with what all was going on, but she was still holding back. Turning her wrist towards her, she rested her head on her knees and stared at what she had done to herself. Closing her eyes, she felt like she was going to be sick. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath.  
  
"Jacques, since September, Orlando Lorenz and I have been seeing each other. We've kept from everybody...except tonight, Tealyr Montague spotted us." Speaking slowly and softly, her voice came out shakey still. Reaching up, she placed her hand on her forehead as she lifted her head off her knees. Her head bobbled forward for a moment as if she were going to faint, but she lifted it back up, keeping her eyes closed.  
  
Jacques took the glass carefully, making sure he didn't slice his hand even more. He quickly walked over to the trash and dropped it in, still breathing rapidly from the commotion that had just happened. He hesitated for a moment, putting his unbloodied hand to his forehead. Opening his eyes, he walked into the bathroom and snatched up some washcloths from beside the sink.  
  
He wet them and then wrung out the excess water as he listened to everything that Faithe was saying. Jacques' eyes widened and he glanced at Faithe hesitantly, but he knew her better than to make up some sort of story about this. Biting his lip, he scrambled through the drawers for some First Aid potion and found a small vial of it. He shook his head and walked back over to where Faithe was, kneeling down beside her and taking her wrist gently in one of his hands.  
  
He was silent for a little while. Occasionally, he would glance up at her doubtfully, as if unsure that what he was hearing was real. Jacques cleaned up her wound--if she would let him--with the wet washcloths and gestured for her to press one of the washcloths on it while he went back into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.  
  
"Faithe," he said quietly, filling up a glass of water, "You know that...you know that I'm your friend, and I'll stick by you in whatever you do...and I'll think nothing less of you...but...I don't know what to say..."  
  
His bare feet treaded the carpet as he walked back over to her and kneeled down beside her again. "Drink this," he instructed in his usual soft-spoken manner, "You need to replace the fluids you've lost..." Jacques lifted the washcloth and winced as he poured the healing potion over the cut, which smoked and stung but was the most effective healing potion known to wizardkind. The only thing left would be a scar. Biting his lip again, his silver-blue eyes looked up into hers doubtfully and he awkwardly stood up, finally turning his attentions to his wounded hand.  
  
"I'm sorry about the punching the mirror," he apologized softly, blushing and averting his eyes from her, "I don't know what came over me...I can be so stupid sometimes..."  
  
Watching him carefully, Faithe expected him to get angry and run out of the room. Slightly surprised that he did neither, she swallowed a hard lump down her throat. Wincing as the wet washcloth touched her skin, her entire arm jumped slightly at the stinging sensation. Biting her bottom lip, a small whimper escaped her throat.  
  
Looking up at him as he spoke, she released a grief filled sigh. "Jacques..." Biting her lip, she looked away from him for a few moments before looking back at him. "Remember that night we met? You were asking me about the comet he had discovered? The truth is...it was sort of named after me. I hated to lie to you, but I couldn't tell you." Taking the glass from him, she sipped on it slowly.  
  
Her body was still trembling slightly, and her head still spinning, but she was beginning to gain a better grasp on herself. Even though she felt like everything she had eaten the past day was about to come up any minute, the water helped choke it all back down. Staring apprehensively at the smoking potion, she started inching her body away, not liking the look of the potion.  
  
When he poured the potion over her wrist, a small cry escaped her lips as she closed her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, she finally opened her eyes. Had tears not already been forming in her eyes, they certainly would have by now. A small tear fell down her left cheek as she watched him stand up.  
  
"Jacques, you aren't stupid. I put you in a bad position, and I'm sorry. That was my fault. All this is my fault..." Looking down, she released another sigh as she rested her elbow on her knee, and rested her forehead on the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry I dredged up something so unpleasant for you. I was being selfish. To be honest, I thought you had stopped and all those scars were just from a long time ago." Sitting up straight, she looked at him with concern in her eyes. "Jacques, what is going on?"  
  
Wiping the blood from his knuckles, Jacques hesitated. It pained him greatly to listen to Faithe's cries and for a moment he doubted if he had done the right thing. However, he realized that he had indeed done what should've been done and she might've been worse off had the wound not been cleaned, sterilized, and healed properly. He gathered up the washcloths with his wand and levitated them into the sink, magically turning on the faucet so that the red substance would be rinsed out. Leaving bloody cloths around the room would definitely draw suspicion.  
  
"You don't need to apologize--I understand...completely...It's alright...we both were keeping our respective secrets, I guess." He paused and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking the healing potion and pouring it on himself. More silence ensued as he grimaced in pain. Once the concoction had taken its toll, he rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.  
  
Part of him wanted to play it off. Part of him wanted to latch onto his secret, his unknown addiction. He had longed for the courage to share things with someone all this time...and now that he had the opportunity, it was harder than he had imagined.  
  
"I've...I haven't stopped, alright?" he said quickly, his words coming out in a frenzy, almost as if he was being accused of some crime and admitting to it. Realizing how resentful his words sounded, he lessened his tone. "I've been doing it for about six or seven months now...I haven't been able to even make an effort to stop...It's just too...I need it too much. It makes me feel good...to think that...that this is my revenge, sort of. This is how I can forget things. But it's...it's everything I said to you..."  
  
He forcefully started to wipe this eyes, tearing his glasses off and making a futile attempt to stop the tears that insisted on coming. "I thought...I thought that if people knew, then...then they would think less of me...I thought if you knew...you might see me as weak...and I know it's bad, I've realized that...but I can't stop it...I'm not strong enough...I'm just...I'm just incompetent..."  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he near-whispered, looking at her now, "I'm sorry that...you have to go through everything that you're going through...You and Mr. Lorenz, and that awful Montague...and you have to listen to me and my whining, and see me like this...I'm so stupid...It's not right, Faithe...you're great, and you shouldn't have to go through all of this...me, on the other hand...I'm not so sure..."  
  
Keeping her eyes on him as best she could, there were a few moments when Faithe had to close her eyes and lean her head back to keep from fainting. Taking a deep breath, she scooted up the wall to a standing position and walked slowly towards the bed where he was sitting. Sitting down next to him, she placed both of her hands on the edge of the bed and leaned forward slightly, closing her eyes.  
  
Listening to him speak, a few tears slipped down her cheeks. She felt guilty more than anything else. Her mouth had upset many people, particularly two of the closest people she had to her. Opening her eyes, she kept her focus on the floor, too ashamed to face him. She'd had no idea he was still doing this to himself, and if she had, she certainly wouldn't have said a lot of the things she did.  
  
Finally forcing herself to look at him, she reached over and took his hand in hers, "Jacques, you are not stupid or incompetant. And you're certainly stronger than that. You don't need to hurt yourself like that. I know I'm not in much of a position to talk right now, but..." Letting go of his hand, she sighed and laid back on the bed. Resting the back of her hand on her forehead, she swallowed another lump in her throat.  
  
"It's not just the thing with Orlando. I don't know...I guess everything just came crashing down on me tonight. I'm just so tired of everybody's expecatations of me. I'm tired of being 'perfect' Faithe. Everybody expects so much of me, and I've spent the past eight years doing what other people want me to do rather than what I want to do." Turning over on her side, she stared at the dresser in front of the bed.  
  
"Jacques, you don't deserve bad things. Nobody does. We all screw up and make mistakes, that doesn't mean we deserve bad things. You're wonderful." Reaching out, she squeezed his arm lightly.  
  
"Most people would have walked out on me tonight, but you didn't. To be honest, I'm surprised you can still bear to look at me." Looking up at him from her position, there was almost a look of doubt on her face. She truly expected him to completely shun her and leave. "I know it isn't considered good morale to be dating a teacher..."  
  
"But I don't think that will be a problem after tonight. I'd be surprised if he ever even wanted to look at me again."  
  
Sniffing, Jacques wiped his eyes once more. He blushed as she took his hand, but looked at her and listened to everything she said in earnest. A sigh drifted from his lips as his eyes traveled elsewhere. He wanted to believe what she was saying about him so badly, but yet...he just couldn't bring himself to accept it...  
  
He nodded slowly as Faithe detailed her problems. He could understand, somewhat, her point of view, even if he had never really had anyone expect demanding things of him. It tore him apart to see her go through this. Faithe was pretty much the only person who hadn't walked out on him.  
  
"Of course I can still bear to look at you," he replied quietly, slightly puzzled as to why he wouldn't be able to. "I would...I would never walk out on you, Faithe. You're...you're all I've got in regards to friends." He said the last part bitterly and somewhat hurriedly, casting his eyes downward and curling his lip slightly. After a moment, he glanced up at her again and continued.  
  
"I mean, you love him...It's not like he's sixty-five or anything...I don't think that it would've been any different if you would've met him outside of school...It could be worse...." he trailed off, and then tilted his head slightly. "Why do you think he won't want to look at you? You said that Montague saw you...it's not like you told on him or anything...that's not anyone's fault...especially not yours..."  
  
"A lot of people look up to you Jacques. I don't know how you don't see that." Sitting up, she groaned as her hand rested on her stomach. On the verge of puking, she moved her hand from her stomach to her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick..."  
  
Laying back down, she took a deep breath. Never one to have a high tolerance of pain, or to have a strong stomach, she feared getting sick. If it happened once, she had a tendancy to remain sick for some time.  
  
"I do love him, but he doesn't believe that anymore. I told him that...that I was leaving. I didn't want to cost him his job, and so I told Tealyr Montague that I would be leaving tonight, and neither of them would hear from me again. And I meant it..." Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, rushing towards the bathroom.  
  
Slamming the door shut behind her, she fell to her knees, resting her head on the toilet seat. Breathing slowly, she closed her eyes groaning.  
  
Frowning, Jacques watched her worriedly. His eyes widened as she rushed to the bathroom and he hesitated before going over to the door and rapping on it.  
  
"Er...Faithe? Faithe, are you okay?"  
  
Feeling the wave of nausea pass, she sat back against the wall. Pulling her ponytail off her neck, she sat there for a few moments in the silence. Finally forcing herself on her feet, she walked over to the door and opened it. Leaning against the door frame, she nodded.  
  
"Fine." Swallowing, she looked at him intently. Despite the look in her eyes that said 'I'm going to be sick' there was a concerned expression in her eyes.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
Jacques waited patiently outside of the bathroom, resisting the urge to throw open the door and make sure she was alright. Seeing her exit, he took a step back to give her some room. "Yes, I'm fine," he said quickly and distractedly.  
  
Sighing, he went back and took a seat on his bed. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?" he inquired softly.  
  
Following him, only a bit slower, she sat down on his bed. Stretching out on her side so she could face him, she studied him intently.  
  
"Yes, you can get me something. The truth."  
  
Jacques furrowed his brows slightly. He asked, with a bit of apprehension, "What do you mean?"  
  
Faithe knew she was treading on dangerous waters with him right now, but she figured of all times, now would be the time to do it.  
  
"Something had to have pushed you to the point of hurting yourself. What was it?"  
  
Jacques stared at Faithe sorrowfully for a moment, with an almost stricken expression, one that asked Why are you asking me this? However, he couldn't bring himself to disregard her quiery.  
  
He began quietly, "It wasn't just one thing. It was a whole bunch of things, actually. I mean, I didn't grab my knife one night and suddenly decide to cut myself. Okay, that's a lie...I actually kind of did. But it was more like all of these negative things, they've been building up inside of me...it was like a dam burst."  
  
Sighing, he picked at the cover on the bed absentmindedly. He was still blushing, embarrassed by his actions and thinking that saying all this must've tainted him in her eyes. "People...I talked to you about people...I hate people," he muttered, "I hate bigots and idiots...ugh...and imbeciles who think that they're in some divine position to judge you..."  
  
He trailed off, shaking his head.  
  
For a moment, Faithe thought he was going to get angry with her. Then again, she wouldn't have blamed him had he lashed out at her verbally. An almost apprehensive expression crossed her face, but softened when her spoke. Listening to him speak, she gradually sat up, her motions rather slow.  
  
"Jacques, I feel like there's something you aren't telling me." Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gently squeezing it.  
  
"I'm not here to judge you. I just want to be able to help you. You're an amazing friend, and I don't want to push you into telling me anything. I just...I want to know what set all this off."  
  
Jacques glanced away. "I'm just...I'm tired of my life..." he said in earnest. That sounded extremely melodramatic even to his own ears, and he was blushing for the third or fourth time that evening. He shook his head slightly, very, very embarrassed.  
  
"It's exasperating...having people pick on you...and having this stupid reputation that you don't even want...I'm sure you know about that..." he continued, not making eye contact with Faithe. He stopped and shook his head again, looking at Faithe now and blushing even more. "What am I saying...here I am, dumping out all my problems to you...and you just went through the breakup of the century..."  
  
He put his hands to his forehead and stood up, pacing a bit. "I'm sorry...I can be so, so stupid sometimes..."  
  
Tilting her head as she listened to him, Faithe fought the urge to hug him. She had gone through those times where she felt desolate, but she had simply buried herself in more school work to forget about it. Shaking her head, she lowered her eyes.  
  
"No, if you have a problem, I'm here for you no matter what. People break up all the time. That whole thing was about everything going wrong..." Looking up as he stood up, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as he called himself stupid, again.  
  
Reaching out, she grabbed his hand as he passed by her in an attempt to stop him.  
  
"Jacques, you are not stupid. Listen, what is so wrong with having a reputation of being one of the most intellegant students in the school? Yes, it brings teasing and torment, but who's going to be better off in the end? If they aren't willing to get to know you, and see how wonderful of a friend you are, then they don't deserve your friendship."  
  
((Brandi, I hope it's alright that I kind of made up some stuff about Orlando and Tealyr's past. If you don't like something, lemme know and I'll change it))  
  
[I]"And then there was one."[/I]  
  
Alone upon the promenade deck, Orlando Lorenz felt more alone and more confused than he'd ever been in his life. There was no one around him, but that wasn't what made the man feel so terribly isolated, it was more the fact that he had been on the SS Ecstasy for not much more than an hour and already, somehow, the entire cruise was ruined. Faithe had abandoned him. Tealyr had abandoned him. The world had abandoned him.  
  
He didn't walk to the railing, nor did he sit upon the deck bench within three feet of him. Instead, the twenty-two year old just stood there upon the deck, as though he was frozen to the spot by some invisible force. Every now and then, a gentle zephyr would blow, breaking the calm night air and ruffling the man's hair a bit; every now and then, the man's eyes would close and he'd imagine that it was Faithe's hand playing with his dark locks.  
  
Letting out a sigh, the man finally gave a sign of life: his head leaned back as he cast his eyes to the sky. A thousand glorious stars dotted the blackness, giving it a sort of phantasmagoric sparkle. Among those stars lay the Holloway Comet, who, at the moment, was just passing through the constellation Libra: the scale, the balance, the equalizer. Perhaps it was a sign that Orlando was just getting what he deserved.  
  
But for what was he being punished? For falling in love with Faithe? Or, did it go back further? Perhaps he was being reprimanded for Demeter, and what being with her had done to not only Demeter herself, but to Tealyr. Since the first day of Rosencrantz until the infamous "morning after", she'd really been the man's first true friend. She had always been there to listen to him, and he had done the same for her. They'd cared about each other, watched over the other, helped them. There hadn't ever been a time Orlando could remember not coming to Tealyr first about anything- and she'd always been there. Whatever it was, he had known he could tell her. True, he had never told her his deepest, darkest secrets, but he hadn't told those to anybody (at the time), and, had he, she would have been the first to know.  
  
She was, after all, the first (and, for the most part, only) to know everything about Orlando's life in all seven of their years at Rosencrantz together. He told her everything from having received an "E" on his Potions OWL and how he'd given ten points to a nice Iris third year who'd held the library door for him to his suspicion that the Astronomy teacher didn't exactly know the difference between a spiral and a conical galaxy and his growing admiration of various Rosencrantz girls. including one such Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance.  
  
It had been at the mention of her name when he'd first felt uncomfortable with Tealyr. Her face had contorted itself and her mouth had done the same. She hadn't liked Demeter much evidently, and had warned Orlando to stay away from the Nike, advising him that she was bad news. He hadn't listened, though. It had been the only piece of Tealyr's advice he'd never followed, and, consequently, the one thing that haunted him to this day. After he and Demeter had begun seeing each other, he had, foolishly, given up his friendships. Although it began as just seeing the other young woman during the few inter-house classes they shared and perhaps an hour or so every Friday night, it wasn't more than a month later that nearly every waking moment of Orlando's was spent with Demeter, save the few where he had to remain within the walls of Athena, and it was only then when he would allow Tealyr some time with him. It was also then when their relationship began to hit rocks. Every conversation held scornful remarks concerning Demeter, and how Orlando really ought to get away from her now, before something happened. Too infatuated, and in love, with the young woman, he hadn't listened.  
  
Then after school, after the post-graduation summer, after a year of schooling up at Cepheus, and after not speaking to her for all that time, Orlando had sent an owl to Tealyr Soleil Montague, informing her of what had happened the past night and asking her for help. But the sort of help she offered wasn't what he was looking for, and, soon, he'd lost the friend he had once treasured above all else in the world forever. Certainly such a grave error ought to be punished, yet taking Faithe from him didn't seem like a corresponding castigation.  
  
Swallowing at the thought of his pristine angel, Orlando ran a hand over his face, sighing with frustration as he wondered what had happened there. He still didn't understand how things had turned themselves around so quickly. She was gone. Why, though? Then again, it didn't really matter, because the fact of the matter was that he'd let her go. More than that, he'd [I]told[/I] her to go. Again, he asked himself "Why?"  
  
There he was, standing upon the deck, wishing for her to reappear just so he could hold her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her, yet, moments earlier, he had told her to go. True, he had been caught off guard and hurt by her threatening to leave- especially doing so in a manner that hinted that she didn't have even the slightest problem with leaving him- but why had he allowed spite to overcome him to the point where he told Faithe to leave? He didn't know.  
  
Letting out another sigh, an idea came to the man. Slowly, he began walking along the deck, casually running his hand absentmindedly along the railing until he reached his destination: the ship's office. Wandering inside the open door frame, he knocked lightly upon it to announce his arrival to the receptionist.  
  
"Could you please tell me Isabelle Cunningham's room number? She just graduated from Rosencrantz Academy this past spring."  
  
"We have a strict policy about..."  
  
"I'm a Professor there," Orlando replied quickly, "I need to speak with her concerning an urgent opportunity for her post-Rosencrantz life."  
  
"Can't it wait until morning, sir? I'm sure you can speak with her about it during breakfast."  
  
"It needs to be taken care of right now."  
  
The receptionist finally gave in as she looked at him through pursed lips over the top of her paperback novel. "Fine..." She told him her room number and he smiled gratefully.  
  
Walking down the deck, the man noticed he was nearly shaking. And then, as he raised his hand to knock upon the door, he found that he couldn't. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she had been serious about leaving? What if she was already gone?  
  
Shaking his head, the man took a deep breath and knocked upon the door several times.  
  
"But Faithe," he sighed, turning to face her, "I don't want to be 'one of the most' anything! I just want people to leave me alone...Even some of the other Athenas don't like me! It's not like I asked to be Prefect..."  
  
He slid his hand out of her grasp and slowly backed up against the door, leaning on it and losing his eyes frustratedly. "When I was younger, I was invisible. Nobody except my father paid me any attention. Then the school told me I was intelligent, and the whole world was against me...I thought it would be better at Rosencrantz, but it's not, it never--"  
  
A sudden knocking from the other side of the door startled him greatly, causing him to flinch and quickly take a step back from the door. He was an absolute bundle of nerves. Shaking his head, he turned his trembling frame towards the door and peeked through the little glass hole in the door. His eyes widened and he stared at Faithe, mouthing nervously, "It's Lorenz...what should I do?"  
  
Opening her mouth to speak to Jacques, she closed it sharply at the sound of knocking. Swallowing with difficulty, she closed her eyes as Jacques peaked out the eye hole. It was either Orlando, Tealyr, or the Headmistresses. Opening her eyes, she caught his eyes as he looked at her. Taking a shakey breath, she sat there for a moment, staring at her hands.  
  
After a few moments of awkward silence, she stood up. Grabbing an oversized sweatshirt, she threw it on over her shirt. She had a feeling he was angry enough at her without adding another factor the the whole thing. The sweater had always been a favorite of hers because the sleeves fell to just past her fingertips;however, tonight she was thankful for the shirt.  
  
Stepping up next to Jacques, she laid her hand on the doorknob. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to will herself to turn hte knob. Looking up at Jacques, there was a look of defeat in her eyes.  
  
"I can't do this...can I?"  
  
"I don't know," Jacques whispered, crossing his arms anxiously over his shirt. He had failed to notice the little red splatters on it. He peered at the door cautiously. "I could answer it...tell them that you're not feeling well...no, that might raise awkward questions...ugh..."  
  
Jacques took a step back. "Do you want me to...er...hide in the closet or something? Leave? I don't mind..."  
  
Sighing, she shook her head. "No. We aren't doing anything. You have no reason to hide because we don't have anything to hide." Looking at him for a few more silent moments, she finally turned her gaze back towards the door. Turning the knob, she opened the door, biting her bottom lip.  
  
At the sight of him, Faithe's breath caught in her throat. Swallowing, she stepped aside so he could come in, assuming that's why he was here.  
  
Allowing the final knock to resounate through the silent, nighttime air, Orlando let his fingers relax as he dropped his hand to his side. All he could do was wait... and allow thoughts and crazy scenarios to plague his mind.  
  
How could he have done that? Told her to leave, that was. She must have thought he didn't care about her. After all, wasn't that was telling her to basically "get lost" implied? Sure, she may have brought it up, but he told her it was a good idea. He hadn't said "if that's what you want"- that would be forgivable; he had told her it was a good idea, implying that he wanted her to leave. Why had he done such a stupid thing?  
  
Noticing how the door still remained closed, Orlando leaned his head back, casting his eyes to the sky as he let out a sound that was a mixed of a sob and a sigh. He didn't bother to logic anything out at that point in time; his mind told him that she'd already left. Faithe Cunningham was gone from his life forever, and it was because he had told her to leave.  
  
Pursing his lips together, tears appeared in his eyes, intensifying the brilliant blue color of them, and a feeling of utter despair that he hadn't felt for two years exactly came down upon him. Once more, he found himself alone, and he didn't know why.  
  
Walking back to the door, he raised his hand to knock again, yet all it did was fall softly upon the door and run down, followed by the man's eyes. Shaking his head as he looked at the ground, he bit his lip. There was no use in waiting any longer; she had gone.  
  
As he turned, the man absentmindedly placed his hands in his pockets, only to have his fingers feel a familiar velvet box bumping gently against them- what significance that box holds should be obvious to the reader. It was at that point when the man let out a hushed, choking sob and wiped his hand down his face, ridding himself of the few tears that had fallen.  
  
It seemed like everything was lost to him just then, as if he'd been living his life wrong all along- as if his time at Rosencrantz had been nothing and he was still the same old worthless little boy he had been in Ewa Beach. No matter what he did, nothing would ever be as he desired; he would always, somehow, screw things up. He had ruined his family, stolen Demeter's innocence, lost Tealyr's friendship, and, now, destroyed whatever he had had with Faithe. Perhaps fate had only been toying with him again...  
  
Then, when it seemed as if all hope was gone, the man heard a door open. Stopping in his tracks (he hadn't gone more than three paces from the door), his head looked over his shoulder and his lips pursed themselves together.  
  
"Faithe..."  
  
He breathed her name in a voice that was barely audible as he turned himself towards her, hands still in his pockets.  
  
He had been so sure that she had left, but there she was. Above all, he was confused. The feelings and thoguhts he was experiencing had changed so much in the past ten minutes that he didn't know if he could trust himself. A part of him wanted to lift her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was, another part told him to turn around and never come back because she didn't want him anymore, another part advised him to simply stand there and let her speak first...  
  
Taking another breath, he adverted his gaze from her. Eyes were the gateway to one's soul, and he didn't want her seeing anything at the moment. Slowly and silently, he walked through the door and turned around just inside to face her, yet his eyes looked just beyond hers, not into them.  
  
"Is this a bad time?" he asked, with a foreign undercurrent of spite running through his voice as he gestured towards Jacques.  
  
Jacques took a step back from the door uncomfortably. He didn't feel like he should be here. He didn't want to intrude upon their privacy, especially when dealing with such a delicate issue...but he didn't know where else to go. Lorenz was blocking the door and it wasn't like he could go back to his room--this was his room.  
  
Upon hearing the Professor's words, his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. He glanced towards Faithe, and then back at the Professor. As the insinuations behind Lorenz' words settled upon him, Jacques made an indignant, disbelieving noise. He was shocked...and speechless.  
  
Faithe's eyebrows rose in surprise at the tone Orlando's voice took. After the shock of his meaning wore off, her eyebrows furrowed together in a look of pain. How many times did he plan on spitting spiteful comments in her face? Dropping her eyes to the floor, she crossed her arms, more for the comfort of hugging herself than anything.  
  
Feeling slightly light headed, she made her way to her bed. Sitting down on it, she pulled her knees to her chest. She couldn't meet his eyes - she was scared of him. Did he come here to rag on her for losing him his job? Faithe knew he had to hate her by now, and she was terrified that he was about to tell her much.  
  
Of course Orlando hadn't presumed what his words insinuated. He knew Jacques, and he knew Faithe better. Neither of them would do such a thing. So, why, one might ask, did he let such a scathing comment escape his lips? Certainly it wasn't in his character to do such a thing. It was a combination of the effect of the hurt and confusion he was feeling in the moment, if anything. He didn't want to appear as desperate as he was, and, so, almost like Demeter, he resorted to bitter remarks to portray such an image. It was better to appear unfeeling than to let Faithe see how much he needed her if she didn't want him the same way.  
  
Then again, although it had seemed like a good idea, the second the words left his mouth Orlando was regretful they had. Pursing his lips together, he gnawed nervously on his tongue, watching Faithe seem to shrivel before him, cowering in fear of him. So overwhelmed by this was he that he took no notice of Jacques. Faithe was afraid of him, and that stuck the man down as nothing ever had before. The inner conflict brewing within him was horrible.  
  
He loved her, but with everything going on, he didn't know if she still loved him... or, for that matter, had ever loved him. The words of Tealyr, his parents and Faithe herself all played through his mind, changing his thoughts incessantly. He wanted everything to be like it had been before Tealyr had come in and ruined it all. Then again, if he hadn't been so foolish, she wouldn't have been able to. It had been he who was at fault.  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, the man's hardened mien softened as he ran his hand down his face, turning his head to the side to a moment just to save himself from having to look at either Jacques or Faithe. Now he was embarrassed for having said such a thing. It wasn't like him, and he knew it.  
  
"That was uncalled for..." he stated quietly, apologizing in a sense for his comment.  
  
Turning back to them, he breathed in quietly and stepped away from the door, thereby leaving Jacques an exit should he desire to utilize it. Truly, he sort of hoped Jacques would leave; the less people who knew about him and Faithe, the better. But, if he wouldn't leave, Orlando wouldn't ask him to.  
  
Sighing, he cast his eyes upon Faithe.  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
Looking up at him, a pained look of incredulity crossed her face. Despite the fact that she still felt like every food item she'd eaten was about to revisit her, Faithe stood up and walked over to him.  
  
"How can you ask me that Orlando?" Crossing her arms across her chest, her gaze fell to the floor. Was this why he'd come here? To toy with her emotions? How could he doubt her feelings for him? If she didn't love him, would she have stuck around after he walked in on him jamming his tongue down his ex-girlfriend's throat? Taking a deep breath, she was very thankful that her last thought didn't come out verbally.  
  
It did feel rather weird to be having this conversation in front of Jacques, but it wasn't as if he didn't know what was going on. Her eyes flitted across the floor, settling on the broken glass that was still on the ground.  
  
Jacques eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them, his expression unreadable. What he could see was that neither of them wanted him to be there. He sighed, quite audibly, and snatched up his weathered copy of Plato's Republic off of the nightstand. The tension in the room was too thick. He couldn't breathe.  
  
"I'll be back," he informed Faithe, not entirely suceeding in keeping his own voice free of anger. Shooting Lorenz a look of burning hatred, he made his way out of the door and down the corridor. He took the first available retreat, which happened to be the elevator, and slid down against the wall as the paneled doors closed. Closing his eyes, he removed his glasses and massaged his temple. This was too much...  
  
Gnawing absentmindedly upon his tongue, Orlando met her gaze. The question was out now, and he no longer had a reason to hide his vulnerability. It had shown through in his voice, and would certainly be visible in his eyes just then. His heart was in her hands; he loved her, and he needed her, but he wasn't sure she felt the same anymore.  
  
"How can you ask me that Orlando?" How could he ask her that? How could he not? After everything they'd been through and shared, she had been the one to put a rift in their relationship the second Tealyr had entered their world. It was as though whatever feelings she had weren't strong enough to survive something trying, but they had already done so so many times. Why, then? Perhaps she was ashamed of him, or embarrassed to be with him in front of anyone save Jake and Kaytlin.  
  
'Who wouldn't be, though?' he asked himself as feelings of worthlessness flooded his mind, recalling the very feelings he had been unable to escape as a boy. He wasn't good-looking (in his opinion, of course; the author, on the other hand, finds him to be an irrestiably sexy), and didn't have too much going for him other than his intelligence, which could really be taken as a disadvantage as well.  
  
"Because I don't know, Faithe," he replied in a tone that was flooded with pleading, hurt and, most of all, confusion.  
  
"I don't want you to leave, but I'm not going to ask you to stay if you don't feel about me how I feel about you..."  
  
He trailed off there into inaudibility, although the rest of his words had been barely audible themselves. They were a sort of whisper, but were more distinct.  
  
Slightly taken back at the tone in Jacques voice as he left, an apologetic expression crossed her face. She felt so bad for him. He had just seen her through one of the scariest moments in her life, and now she knew he had to feel as if he were being kicked to the curb. She would find him later and talk to him - he didn't deserve to be pushed out like this.  
  
Turning back to Orlando, her eyes filled with tears at his insinuation that she didn't want to be with him. After everything they had been through, she didn't want to be with anybody else. She couldn'tbe with anybody else. Whether or not tonight was the last time she ever saw Orlando, and that very thought alone was enough to almost make her knees give out on her, she knew she could never care about anybody even nearly as deeply as she cared about Orlando.  
  
The fact that he was doubting her, killed her. It was almost enough to tempt her to get rid of him and go back to finding that solstice she had found with cutting herself. How she had managed to lose her rationality to do something like that was still shocking to her. Knowing that she had found comfort in it, terrified her. Still more, the fact that she was considering picking it up again, almost made her sick. Pulling her gaze from the shattered glass, she looked back up at him, tears slipping down her cheeks.  
  
"Orlando, you're my world." Speaking softly, her voice cracked as she fought back the urge to bust into sobs. Closing her eyes for amoment, she made an attempt to halt her tears, but to no avail.  
  
"Do you hate me for possibly losing your job?" She had to know. So positive that he felt angry towards her, Faithe had to know just how much disdain he felt for her at the moment.  
  
Seeing the tears overflow in Faithe's sorrowful brown eyes, Orlando felt an unswallowable lump appear in his throat. In that moment, he knew he'd hurt her. She loved him- her eyes told him so- and he felt absolutely terrible that he'd ever doubted such a thing. Then again, he had had reason to doubt, hadn't he? If she loved him, she wouldn't have acted like she hadn't, right?  
  
No, that wasn't the case. Orlando knew from personal experience that sometimes, when emotions run high, things are said that aren't meant. He'd been guilty of such a crime just a few short minutes ago. What right did he have to hold something like that against her? None.  
  
At her words, the man had nearly choked. All those fears of the whole saga having been no more than a dream, of Faithe not wanting him anymore... everything was wiped out in a reliving epiphany of sorts. Making a futile attempt to rid his throat of the lump, he swallowed, shutting his eyes as his did so, only to open them a few moments later. Gazing into Faithe's eyes, he did all he could to keep the few tears in his eyes from escaping, blinking a few times until their threat had passed.  
  
"Then why are we--" he began with an almost laugh embedded in his voice, stopping speaking only because Faithe had started.  
  
His job? Was all this truly about his job? Although it was no secret that Orlando adored his job and wouldn't trade it for any other in the world (well, maybe that last part was a bit of a secret), he wouldn't even have to think if he was ever forced to choose between it and Faithe. If he had to choose between anything and Faithe, she would always come first.  
  
"Hate you?" he repeated incredulously, taking a few steps towards her. "Never, Faithe."  
  
He hadn't planned on losing control, but as he got closer to her, he couldn't help but let himself slip. Everything was going to be alright now, it seemed.  
  
Placing his hands upon her shoulders, his head tilted slightly as he shook his head at her, still trying to swallow the lump in his throat.  
  
"My job isn't worth losing you," he said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed upon hers as his hands slid down her arms around wrapped around her, linking their fingers together as they met upon her lower back.  
  
"Nothing, Faithe, is worth losing you."  
  
As he stepped towards her, her stance seemed to shrink. She was still expecting him to reprimand her. Hearing him speak in a tone that was different from how he had been speaking earlier, Faithe felt a little bit more comfort. If he were to yell at her, he would have done it already. Still, seeing him trying to hold in the emotions she could see through his eyes, caused her own lump to form.  
  
Feeling his hands move from her shoulders down her arms, a large part of her wished that she could feel his skin on her arms. However, she knew that was impossible at the moment. As his arms wrapped around her waist, she took a step forward, mainly so there wouldn't be so much strain. Looking up at him, there was a slightly fearful expression on her face.  
  
"So, I did lose you your job?" There was a melancholy note in her voice as her eyes dropped. Though he thought she was worth the loss of his job, Faith felt more guilt than she ever had in her life. It was because of her that he was now unemployed. How could he support himself now? Whatever happened to him from this point on was her fault.  
  
"I'm so sorry Orlando."  
  
Tilting his head inquisitively as her face took on an apprehensive look, Orlando's eyes narrowed slightly, wondering why she was still afraid. Her fear seemed to have lessened, at least; he could now allow himself to believe that she was no longer scared of him, which was much appreciated. And then, as she spoke, telling him the cause of her distress, the man couldn't help the small smile that played upon his lips. After all this, everything they'd gone through that evening, she still was worried about his job. And, more than that, worried that she had caused him to lose his job.  
  
"Not at all," he replied quietly, "None of this is your fault, Faithe, and don't let yourself think any of it is, not even for a second."  
  
Shaking his head, he pulled her closer to himself, untangling his fingers from each other in order to have a free hand. Reaching up, he laid this hand upon the back of her neck and gently guided her head to his shoulder, pressing her body tightly against his chest.  
  
"Don't be sorry," he whispered into her ear before gently kissing the top of her head (or, if she was looking up at him then, her forehead), "Besides, nothing's been done and I don't think Tealyr's going to say anything. Not yet, anyways."  
  
Seeing him smile, a perplexed expression crossed her face. Why was he smiling at her? She wasn't aware she had said anything funny. It wasn't until he started speaking that she realized that his smile was a good sign that he was still employed. Biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, Faithe allowed her head to be steered to his shoulder.  
  
Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to melt into his. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but she didn't even notice them anymore. Everything seemed as if it would be all right in the end. Orlando's here...of course everything's ok.  
  
"She didn't believe me at all, did she?" Not that it mattered, but Faithe couldn't resist the urge to ask. It hadn't been her best performance, but she had been too emotional to think of a better explanation. Of course, Orlando running after her probably didn't help. Sighing, she buried her face in his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist.  
  
Lifting her head, she slid her hand up and ran her fingers over his jawline. The sleeve of her sweater slid back, stopping just above where her first cut began. Keeping her eyes on his, she searched his eyes deeply.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Holding her close to him, feeling her arms around his waist, the sensation her breath induced upon his skin. Everything about the moment felt right. It was as though, once more, everything was how it should be, and those earlier moments of confusion and hurt had never transpired.  
  
At her question, a smile crept up on the man's lips, which, in all actuality, was really more of a grin. Chuckling slightly, his hand toyed with the loose strands of hair below the tied ribbon, nonchalantly curling them around his fingers as he shook his head. "Not. At. All," he replied softy, with an almost jovial undertone in his voice.  
  
"She knows-" pausing, the man corrected himself, yet still retained that nonchalant/jovial tone in his voice, not really realizing what he was saying, "[I]knew[/I] me to well to think I'd go along with something like that."  
  
Another pause interrupted the conversational flow as Orlando thought. This certainly was the opportune time to tell her about his and Tealyr's past. After all, the young woman most definitely deserved to know, and she was sure to wonder exactly what had transpired between the two after she had retreated to her stateroom. Thinking about just what had happened, the man swallowed and blinked for a second before returning his gaze to Faithe. He had too much regard for her feelings to discuss the matter with her. Demeter had been a shaky topic before Manhattan, and, afterwards, considering they'd never discussed the matter in-depth, he was sure it was even more of an unstable conversation topic for the two. Thus, he chose to pass by that turnoff and continue along the road they were on- back to where they ought to be: together, in love, and happy.  
  
Tilting his head towards her fingers in order to meet her gaze, Orlando smiled. Had his eyes not been completely fixated on hers, they might have wandered down. Yet, he was almost too afraid not to stare into her eyes just then, fearing she would further inquire about Tealyr. Then again, she would probably get around to doing so anyways.  
  
"Mmm," he replied, smiling softly and still absentmindedly winding her hair around his fingers ever so often, "I love you, too, [I]ma Foi[/I]."  
  
((Mmk, I was going to have him lean down to kiss her and then, while pulling back, see the cut, but I didn't want to have two major events going on "at once" so to speak. Just didn't want you to think I was ignoring that, 'cause I want him to see what she did, but wanted to leave you the opportunity to have her ask about Tealyr if you wanted to without getting all overwhelmed with plotishness. Oh, and pre-season camp is all this week, so, I'll do what I can, but don't expect much in the way of replies.))  
  
A sort of pouty smile crossed her face as Orlando confirmed that Tealyr had not believed a word she said. Shrugging slightly, she sighed as her eyes fell to the ground. Staring at the carpet, her eyes blurred as her focus grew fuzzy. Shaking her head, she turned her head back up to look at him.  
  
"Hence the reason Jake always came up with the lies, and I played them out. I'm not a good liar, unless I've had time to prepare for it. I was just desperate to turn the heat off of you, and it was the first thing that popped into my head." A half smirk crossed her face, but her eyes were still troubled. Faithe felt like she was hiding something from him. Well, she was hiding something from him. She didn't like how that felt though, but she was too scared to tell him. Realizing her sleeve had falled back some, she dropped her arm for a moment, allowing the sleeve to once again cover her hand. Reaching back up, she wrapped her arm around his neck. Her eyes halfway closed as she felt his hands in her hair, giving her the appearance of a cat when you found that special spot. Finally allowing her eyes to close when his soft voice had penetrated her heart, she rested her foreheard against his chin. Had she been taller, it might have been his forehead, but since Orlando was half a foot taller than Faithe, the chin was all she could reach.  
  
"What happened after I left then?" Looking up at him, her eyes were back to being alert, as was her attention. "If you don't think she'll tell, then obviously something good happened." At least, that's what she hoped. He hadn't altered Montague's memory, because he said that she hadn't told yet.  
  
Shaking his head at her recollection of her childhood (or so he presumed), Orlando offered a grin. He was a horrible liar as well; it was one of his many flaws. Then again, perhaps not being a good liar wasn't really a flaw; it proved his honesty.  
  
"Eh," the man replied with a sort of shrug, "you're a good enough actress that you had me fooled enough at one point..." 'and it scared me more than I'll admit.' he finished mentally. It was true, though. Back on the deck, when she had declared that she was leaving and would never see either of them ever again, the resolve in her voice had almost made those words sound like the undeniable truth. In that moment, he'd found himself so lost, confused and positively bewildered that it seemed like he had known nothing about the young woman he had claimed to love.  
  
In spite of those thoughts, Orlando's remark came off sounding like a light- hearted joke- exactly the way he wanted it to sound. Although he had always been reasonably open with Faithe before, the current situation left him feeling as if being completely open with Faithe would make him terribly vulnerable. And, sad to say, the man didn't feel comfortable trusting her like that... Not now, not after she'd actually seemed like she would just walk away from him. It was one thing to have her walk away and pretend that he didn't care too much, but if such a thing ever happened and she knew how much she still meant to him... Just the thought of letting someone get to him like that bothered him.  
  
And, as all these thoughts were flashing through the man's mind, Faithe broke his pensive reverie by resting her forehead on his chin. He'd never really seen her as "short", (ater all, when one is 6' 1" tall, the vast majority of women are shorter than you) but the fact that she couldn't reach his forehead prompted the thought to enter his mind. "You're adorable," he chuckled quietly. "A little short, but adorable..."  
  
Just as the worry about having to tell Faithe about Tealyr left Orlando's mind, her words revived it. Sighing quietly, he leaned his head back, taking her eyes out of his. He hadn't ever kept anything from her, and certainly didn't want to start now. He wanted to tell her everything, but somethings weren't exactly the best conversation material. Although she probably didn't, Orlando currently considered his relationship with Faithe wary; it wasn't as bad as it had been after Manhattan, but it wasn't exactly stable enough to withstand drudging up something that was, in his mind, worse than Manhattan had been.  
  
Shaking his head, he rolled it around so that his eyes were looking at the ground ((hopefully... if Faithe was so close that he wouldn't have been looking at the ground, erm... disregard that and say that he simply looked at the ground to the side of him, as opposed to right in front of him)). Eventually, his head did lift itself back up and his eyes met hers again, although their true color was clouded, perhaps symbolizing something... ((Oooh))  
  
"Yeah..." he replied, not really consciously. "Yeah, Tealyr and I, we talked, and I don't really know what happened, but something I said must've gotten to her, I guess..."  
  
Biting her bottom lip, she turned away at his comment. I wasn't acting when I said that... Of course, there was no sense in vocalizing that thought. Faithe had been prepared to leave, in fact, she still had a boat waiting for her. Not because her feelings for Orlando had changed, but because she knew she couldn't be selfish with him if it would ruin everything he had worked for.  
  
Gasping, she playfully slapped his shoulder. Wrinkling her nose, she stuck her tongue out. "I am not short...you're just tall." Muttering, she shot him a fake glare, a small smirk playing at her lips.  
  
A wary expression crossed her face when he shifted his gaze from her. That wasn't normal, and something didn't feel right about it. Feeling apprehensive, she turned her head slightly as she looked at him intently. Her toe dug nervously into the carpet, part of her getting scared by his silence. When he finally did look up at her, she swallowed.  
  
Staring at him, her body tense as he spoke, Faithe's lips rolled inwardly. He's never looked at me like that before.She wanted to believe him, she really did. However, something just wasn't clicking. Taking a step back, she allowed her arms to drop to her side.  
  
"Orlando, what aren't you telling me?"  
  
((Sorry for the load of dialogue at the end, but Orlando's verbose and all, so. *shrugs*))  
  
[I]'As if she wouldn't catch on.[/I]' the man mused to himself. Orlando knew fully well that he was a horrible liar and, worse than that, couldn't make a summed up version of the truth sound any better than a lie, especially when he [I]did[/I] want her to know. The words that had come out of his mouth were indeed the truth, although they portrayed a rather shortened and unemotional version of it. He had left out the part where Tealyr and he got into the heated argument over Demeter, repeating the same insults back and forth at each other as though they were trapped in some sort of time warp and doomed to do so forever. He'd also casually left out how exactly he'd gotten to Tealyr. and the whole past between the two.  
  
Once more, Orlando's eyes left Faithe's, staring past her left side as though there was something of the utmost interest on the stateroom wall. Another sigh passed through he lips and he shook his head again before returning his gaze to hers.  
  
"A lot." he replied, almost in a remorseful tone. In fact, his voice resembled that of a normal little child who had been caught lying to his parents for the first time. He hated lying to Faithe, in any sense of the word. It felt wrong, above all else, and he knew it was only furthering the rift between the two. But to tell her what had happened would hurt her, and to tell her everything. Well, he didn't know how she'd take it- if she could take it at all. And, if she could, he didn't know if she'd stay with him.  
  
The man knew that telling her about his past with Tealyr wouldn't be that difficult, but having to mention Demeter's name would lead the conversation somewhere he didn't want it to go. not with Faithe, nor anyone else. The guilt he felt was still, even after two years, unimaginable, and thinking of it almost made him feel unworthy of Faithe, like he was too heinous of a person to deserve someone as wonderful as her. Not only did speaking about her trudge up buried memories and feelings for Orlando, but he was also sure that it would revive the pain he'd caused Faithe in Manhattan.  
  
If only he'd been strong enough to talk to her about it back then. He hadn't even tried to explain what had happened. Sure, he'd told her he didn't want Demeter anymore- and he didn't, not at the price she would come- but that was all. For all she knew, he'd [I]planned[/I] to meet Demeter in his hotel room, only come to Manhattan to meet with her. That wasn't how it'd happened at all, though. But Faithe didn't know that, she didn't know any of it, and it was because, by the time Orlando finally got her to speak with him, he wanted her back so badly that he didn't want to risk having her by talking to her about Demeter. Now that weak decision was coming back to haunt him. He'd have to talk to her about it sooner or later, or it would just keep getting harder and harder to bring up, and, with each moment that passed, withholding something from her would keep growing into a lie. Now, he was given another opportunity to tell her. but he didn't know if he could take it.  
  
"Look. Faithe." he said quietly, and so unconfidently that his voice sounded foreign to his own ears, as he lifted his hand from his sides and then set them down again, "I'm sorry. I just."  
  
As his voice echoed through his mind, it sounded so weak and pathetic. so unlike him. If there was one feeling in the world that could contort who the man was, it was guilt. So often had he felt that emotion growing up- not knowing what he'd done wrong to be hurt, but knowing that there had to be something he'd done to deserve it. As an adult, it had affected him as well, namely with Demeter, but, again, a little with Adhara, and now with Faithe. The feeling was so strong that it got the better of him, turning him into a babbling fool, incapable of forming complete or even coherent sentences.  
  
Reaching out, he took her hand in his and led her slowly and silently over to the bed where he sat on the edge and weakly tugged at her arm, suggesting she ought to sit down as well. If he got the nerve up to actually say something to her, it would be better said if she were sitting down. ((Okay, I'm god-moding a bit, so I hope it's not too much of a problem that the rest of this post is written as though she [I]did[/I] sit down. I mean, I kinda presumed she would, so. yeah)) Dropping her hand, Orlando's elbows placed themselves onto his knees and he buried his face in his hands for a moment, exhaling loudly.  
  
"Oh." A mix of a sigh and a groan escaped his lips, muffled by his hands, which still covered his face.  
  
Sitting there, so close to her, he felt himself getting nervous- very nervous. He couldn't look at her- the guilt was too strong. It wasn't as though he'd actually done anything wrong, but, in Orlando's mind, just keeping his and Tealyr's past from her was wrong. Granted, there'd never been an opportune time to just casually say "Hey, Faithe, you know Professor Montague? Well, we used to be best friends until I slept with Demeter", but still.  
  
Eventually the man managed to slide his hands down back to his lap, although his eyes still remained in his lap, staring at his hands fixatedly. Making a futile attempt to rid himself of the growing lump he felt in his throat, he swallowed. He wanted her to know, he just didn't want to have to tell her. If only there was a spell to jump to the future, maybe a week later. but there wasn't.  
  
Slowly, he raised his head up. Yet, not being able to look at her, his eyes remained forward, gazing at the wall. He had an opportunity to tell her everything, and he might as well take advantage of it.  
  
"Back, a long time ago, eight years, I think." he began. '[I]Wow, has it really been a whole eight years?[/I] ".when I'd first started at Rosencrantz, I met this girl. She was amazing, really. She was. so. so incredibly intelligent, so sympathetic, so understanding. She was the first person I'd ever known who wasn't. I don't know what she didn't have that everyone else seemed to, but she was my first friend."  
  
Recalling Tealyr like that- how she used to be- reminded the man of just how much she'd meant to him. She'd brought good into his life- something that hadn't really been there before. When he was with her, he felt normal, accepted. like he didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Tealyr would joke around with him and she'd talk to him seriously; she was the first person that had done that- treated him as though he was normal. And now. he'd pushed her aside and she was no longer his friend.  
  
"I could tell her anything, and she could do the same with me." he recalled sorrowfully, "And, by the time we were in our seventh year, we were such exceptionally close friends. but. it didn't last.  
  
"See, there was this other girl. And she was just. strong, lively, beautiful, friendly, extraordinary. She was perfect, and I absolutely adored her. Of course, I told the other girl- my best friend- this. I mean, she was a girl herself, so I figured she ought to be able to help me out. but she didn't like the other girl much. I don't know why, but she told me to stay away from her, that she was 'bad news'.  
  
"I didn't listen, though. Heh. I think that was the only advice of hers I didn't heed, and I think, in some twisted sense, it came back to haunt me, because, after I started seeing this other girl, the first one and I kind of drifted apart. We still talked, but it wasn't like before. And then, after graduation, I didn't even owl her once for an entire year. until I realized that I needed her still.  
  
"See, I'd made."  
  
Thusfar, Orlando'd done a remarkable job of not letting his emotions interfere with his recollection so much that he broke down, but now, recalling that night, and the morning after, they were beginning to display themselves. Tears were forming in his eyes and cascading down his cheeks, and, every so often, he'd have to pause to allow a breathy sob to pass through his lips. Still, though, he kept speaking; if he stopped for too long, he didn't think he'd ever start up again.  
  
"I'd made the worst mistake I ever could have. This girl had trusted me with everything, her life. herself. everything. I was barely twenty then, and she was only nineteen. She was young- we both were.young and stupid, that is. But she. she was innocent. And that innocence. I took it away from her, and I can't ever give it back."  
  
On that last sentence, his voice broke so that he was almost talking from his throat, breathing the words instead of actually speaking them.  
  
"Tealyr. Tealyr, she didn't understand that it was all my fault. I was the one who had let things go so far. I was older, I was the man, and I should have stopped us. It wasn't her job; she was too naïve and trusting. I should have been the one to keep it from happening, but I didn't. Tealyr didn't get it, though. She just kept blaming Demeter, saying that she had known Demi wasn't good for me, and every time we spoke, it was just a constant quarrel. It wasn't long after that that we just stopped talking to each other all together. Tonight was the first time I'd spoken to her since then.  
  
"And it was still the same. We were still exchanging harsh words back and forth, still yelling at each other, still finding it impossible to make the other see how they were wrong. and I got so caught up in what was being said that, at one point, I pulled out my wand. I wanted everything to go away so badly. But then, as I stood there, her words. they just kind of echoed through my mind, and I thought, for the first time, that, even after all this. she still cared about me. I guess it might have always been there, but I'd never seen it before. The things she said. every cut she made against Demeter was paired with something about me, how I 'shouldn't have had to deal with' something, or that she had 'always had my best interests at heart'.  
  
"That sort of thing. it's not like Tealyr. And, so, I asked her. I asked her why she insisted upon acting like she still cared about me. And, she just froze for a moment. and a tear fell down her cheek. and then she walked away saying that she did care about me, but then she took it back and said that she '[I]did[/I]' now. that she had, but not anymore."  
  
Having not moved throughout his entire speech, Orlando finally broke and closed his eyes, still keeping his head facing the wall. He didn't want to look at Faithe. He didn't want to see what she was thinking because, if he had hurt her just then, he knew the guilt would become unbearable.  
  
"I'm sorry." he whispered, just barely loud enough for her to hear.  
  
Fear. It was a disease that plagued everybody, spreading through them like a wildfire. People lived in fear, while others refused to acknowledge its presence. Fear could make any person stronger by forcing them to overcome their biggest phobias. Everybody comes to that crossroad in their life where they are forced to face some dark fear that has been hidden in the shadows of the deepest closet of their mind. There are those who decide to live their lives in fear, closing out anything and everyone that might test their fears, or bring in new fears alike. They never take risks, never form relationships, and never explore their own self. These people never have the chance to truly live their lives.  
  
Faithe had never known it, but she had spent almost eighteen years of her life fitting in more with the latter group than the former. Though she had never noticed it, Isabelle Faithe Cunningham had built a wall, guarding herself, not only from others, but from herself as well. She had conscious knowledge that she had kept so many people at arm's length, but never would have thought that she had been among those people. She and Jake were close, but there were still a lot of things she wouldn't ever feel comfortable talking to him about.  
  
Orlando had changed all that though. It had been a change so subtle that she hadn't noticed it until now as she watched him struggle to open up to her. He had taught her how to face her fears the first night he had ever really known her. Despite her negative resolve, Orlando Lorenz had not given up on her as everybody else had ever done. He'd been her strength when she had none, and had been so gentle about pushing her to where he knew she could go, to be who he knew she could be. Faithe had never been confident with herself, her true self, around other people. She always wore a false mask - the life of the 'perfect little Athena Head Girl.' From the moment she met Orlando, there had been no mask. She had always been real with him from the start, and had felt comfortable being her.  
  
Fear had nearly driven her away from meeting the Astronomy professor for an evening of astronomical wonder. Worried about what rumors would spread around Rosencrantz should somebody see a teacher with his student, though their intentions had been pure. Fear had nearly driven the two of them apart less than twenty-four hours after that first, innocent kiss. With time, that fear ebbed away and was replaced with adoration and devotion, and eventually love. As their relationship grew, so did Faithe. Never before had Isabelle Cunningham put so much of herself into trusting and loving another person, nor had she ever felt so complete from being trusted and loved. She didn't always have to wear a smile around Orlando, she was allowed to cry and be emotionally weak, because she knew that he would be strong for her, and vice versa. He wouldn't scorn her for making a mistake, and not being the perfect girl everybody had stereotyped her to be. He accepted her - all of her.  
  
Feeling his hands take hers, that fear that she hadn't felt since that first trip to Manhatten rekindled in her heart. Allowing him to lead her to the bed, there was a reluctance in her step. This felt like one of those conversations that started off with 'You're a great girl, but...' and ended with an 'It's not you, it's me.' Though she was dreading what Orlando had to say, merely by how he was acting, Faithe was thankful to be sitting down. As she sat, her body became as rigid as a board. Pulling the sleeve back up over her right hand, her brown eyes searched his face, not bothering to hide her worry.  
  
Listening to his words describe the two girls, particularly Demeter, Fiathe felt her chest tighten. Struggling to breathe, she swallowed the ever growing lump in her throat. There were several times when he was speaking she wanted to interject, but remained silent. Just the same, there were more moments she simply felt like crying and running away. She felt as if she'd been lied to, and feeling like that about Orlando hurt. Granted, he hadn't actually lied to her, but he had kept something that important from her on purpose. It hurt that she had obviously done something to push him away from her, and now he was struggling to open up to her.  
  
Faithe had just learned less than thirty minutes ago the dangers of bottling up emotions. Now, she felt so much guilt that she hadn't been there as she should have been for the man she loved, and now she was having to watch him force himself to talk to her. How selfish could she get? Although, there was something tugging at her heart.  
  
"So, the two of you spent hte whole arguing about Demeter?" Speaking softly, her voice came out meek and hurt. Hearing herself, she reprimanded herself silently. Hadn't she just finished scolding herself for being so selfish with him? Sighing, she bit her bottom lipas her mind moved in many different directions. This wasn't about her, it was about him. Standing up, she kneeled down in front of him. Cupping his face in her hands, Faithe sought out his eyes with hers.  
  
"Orlando," speaking with soft compassion, Faithe's thumbs moved gently back and forth on his skin, "You have to let it go. Yes, you were the man. Yes, you were older. And yes, you may have initiated what happened between the two of you. But sweetheart, if she hadn't wanted it, she would have put a stop to it. It wasn't as if you forced yourself onto her. She wasn't the only person that lost something that night, you did too. You love her Orlando, and she loves you, and you feel this lone responsibility for what happened." Stopping, Faithe swallowed the lump down in her her throat. She knew had used the present tense in that last sentence - she had done it purposefully. What scared her was that she felt so much conviction that her statement was true.  
  
"Your guilt is trapping you in this cage Orlando. If you don't come to terms with it, it will eat you alive. You can't change what happened in the past, but you hold your future in your hands. Don't let one mistake, which may not have even been a mistake, ruin you." Dropping her eyes to the ground for a moment, Faithe tried to word everything she was feeling inside of her. There were so many different things she wanted to say, but didn't know how to say any of them.  
  
"If you continue to drag this around with you, you're never going to be able to give yourself completely to anybody. You'll always be holding onto that fear that history is going to repeat itself, but you can't do that Orlando. Whether I end up being amazingly blessed and get to spend the rest of my life with you, or if you and Demeter were truly meant to be together, you will never be able to put everything you have into that relationship. Or if there is some unknown woman out there who actually deserves you, then she deserves to be able to know you on an unhidden level. Not only will you hurt somebody else, but you'll hurt yourself Orlando." Talking about him being with another woman caused a sharp pain in her stomach. She loved him with everything inside of her, and was willing to give anything to be with him. Not only was it a thought, but she could physically visualize how painful it was to see him with another woman. Closing her eyes for a moment, she swallowed and pushed down tears that were threatening to betray her emotions. Opening them, her eyes had watered up, but the tears remained still and unfalling as they searched his face.  
  
"As for Tealyr Montague, you have a chance to reconcile your friendship. Don't let pride from either side get in the way of that. Orlando, it bothered her so much because she was in love with you. Anytime a female acts like that over a guy, unless they can base their opinion up with fact, it general means that they have feelings for the guy in question. Unless I'm completely out of the ballpark, it probably really hurt her to put so much time and herself into you, and to see you with another woman." That last comment hit a little too close to home for her, and she had to break her eye contact before her tears spilled over. Dropping her arms, she sat down on the floor, hugging her knees. Reaching up with her right hand, she absentmindedly began rubbing her neck. Not even thinking, she shook the sleeve down to the middle of her arm so her fingers could massage the tight muscles.  
  
"Orlando, do you regret not staying with Demeter that night?" She couldn't look at him when she asked this question. She felt ashamed for even doing so, especially at a time like this.  
  
Sitting there, Orlando's face was, in a sense, frozen. Although it didn't have that vacant look it typically did after he'd experienced something trying, not a muscle on his face moved, save his diaphragm as he breathed ever so slightly. His eyes remained locked closed, facing the wall, as tears welled up behind them; his eyebrows remained at just the right height to give him a remorsefully pensive look; and his lips remained pressed together, fearing that, if they opened at all, the only thing that would pass through them would be a sob. He'd cried in front of Faithe enough, and he wasn't about to do it again. Not over something like this. not over Demeter. not again. She didn't deserve that sort of torment: watching someone you love cry over losing someone else.  
  
[quote]"So, the two of you spent the whole arguing about Demeter?"[/quote]  
  
Innocence. Faithe's voice was filled with it. His dreaded prophecy had been realized; he'd hurt her. The pain was evident inside her voice, and Orlando couldn't have denied its existence if he'd tried, not because he was a bad liar, but because no one could repudiate the fact that she was upset, and that her distress was his fault. It wasn't just the tone of her words, either, but the words themselves. They almost sounded, understanding in a sense, but not the sense he would have liked. To him, it appeared that she had begun to believe that, after Faithe had left him, and he had thought her gone forever, he had preferred defending Demeter to Tealyr than to running after her. or, even worse, that he leaving had had such little effect on him that his mind was free to think about Demi in such a way.  
  
Swallowing, his eyes remained closed and he offered the smallest of nods in answer to her question. True, Tealyr had begun reprimanding him for his stupidity, but none of that mattered. Since the moment Professor Montague had alluded to her, Demeter had been the primary conversation topic.  
  
As Faithe stood, the man felt the bedsprings shift beneath him, prompting him to open his eyes and, consequently, allowing a pair of tears to run down his cheeks. His eyes flitted to Faithe, not meeting her gaze, but watching her as though he thought she was going to walk out on him as he brushed the saltwater from his face. If she left right then, he wouldn't have blamed her at all. In fact, he wouldn't have so much as raised a hand in an attempt to stop her. He knew he was asking too much of her. It was one thing for him to have asked her to accept the fact that he'd had a past with Demeter the morning after they'd truly met, and it was another thing for him to hope she would stay with him after first-handedly viewing the sort of passion that had once inundated that past, but asking her to accept him and to trust him, in spite of all the things she now knew, in spite of everything he was. complete forgiveness and acceptance was something the man would never dream of asking such a goddess to bestow upon him, and something he didn't know if he could even accept from her if it was given on her own free will.  
  
But then, instead of leaving, he watched as she slowly eased herself onto the ground before him, kneeling there as he sat upon the bed. As her soft skin caressed his face, the man almost felt like pulling away from her, not wanting her hands to be soiled by the foulness he held within. Yet, he couldn't pull away from her. at least, not with her melodious voice filling his ears and her thumbs lightly running along his cheeks. Instead, he merely shut his eyes, hoping that, if he didn't look her in the eye, this whole thing would just be over sooner. He felt so much guilt, and so much pain for causing her such hurt that he couldn't bear to look into his eyes. He wasn't worthy of such an action; he'd lied to her.  
  
His ears picked up her words fine, but his mind distorted them, turning them into a sort of echo as they resonated through his head. Every so often, his mind would shout out a rebuttal, but those remarks never made it through his mouth. He sat there, silently, listening to her, and getting the basic idea. Sometimes, when the logical part of his brain was allowed its say, every word she spoke made perfect sense. Yet, other times the emotional slice's voice was the loudest, telling him that nothing mattered except what he had done himself. He couldn't speak on Demeter's behalf, but the fact was that, although she had played her part, it wasn't her role that caused the man such angst; it was his own.  
  
Although he'd listened, he hadn't really heard everything she said word-for- word. until that last eerie statement- "[I]You love her Orlando, and she loves you...[/I]". Followed by that pause, in which Faithe swallowed, Orlando's eyes flitted open for a moment, almost asking her if she knew what she had just said.  
  
To say the man hadn't thought about such a thing would be a lie. In fact, ever since Jake had brought it up that night, the man had wondered exactly how he felt about Demi- not the memory, but the person she was here and now. After considering things, for quite awhile, Orlando Corvello Lorenz had finally reached the chilling conclusion that, yes, he did love Demeter, and, yes, he loved her still. There was something about the way she carried herself, how she spoke, how she acted, how her fingers danced upon his neck. Everything about the woman still held some little piece inside the man's heart, but the part that held all those little pieces was shattered in itself. The guilt associated with all things Demeter that he felt was like a set of iron bars, caging that part of his heart, and, until he overcame that, there was no way he could ever really love her like he used to.  
  
Faithe was right; his guilt was trapping him. It was directing which way he would go, by locking certain doors and leaving others wide open. Each word that escaped her lips was true, although Orlando would never be able to accept them as such. In fact, to his mind, they all seemed like sweet little lies from the mouth of an innocent girl who wanted him so much that she'd say anything to get him to be over his ex. Not being able to look at her, he closed his eyes again, and made another futile attempt to get himself to try to take his face from her hands.  
  
Of course, he didn't get very far. The feeling of her skin upon his, stroking his cheeks so lovingly. it made him feel as though everything between them was still alright, that she still loved him and that everything was okay. He couldn't possibly take that sensation away from himself; he was much too selfish. Thus, he left his head within her hands, clinging on to the last physical sign of what he had had.  
  
As she spoke of his guilt as though it was something he had to rid himself of, Orlando's doubts kicked in again. Sure, her words sounded nice, but what she didn't understand, though, was that guilt itself was part of who he was, and it couldn't just be something he let go of. He knew that, until the day he died, what he'd done to Demeter would haunt him, and that was precisely the reason he couldn't be with her. Every time he'd see her face, he'd envision her eyes gazing trustingly up into his as her soft blond hair lay out underneath her head, mingling within the soft blades of grass; every time he'd catch a glimpse of her bare shoulders, a flash of them covered with the sheet he'd brought to use as a picnic blanket that night would come into his mind; and every time he would hear her soft sigh, he'd be transported back to that morning and find himself wondering how she must have felt when she'd woken up. only to find him gone.  
  
She must have been desperate, scared. alone. But Orlando couldn't have helped it. He had been so young, and been so scared by what he'd done, that he just wanted to get away from it all. Waking up with Demeter's arms wrapped around him, and her head buried into his chest, his arm entangled around her shoulder. the consequences of what they- what [I]he[/I]- had just done had come into focus, and, more than anything in that moment, he wanted to get away and pretend it never happened. Of course he knew that couldn't be, but anything was better than sticking around. Like a hit-and- run driver, he was so terrified of the consequences an accident might entail that, rather than wait for them to pass, he chose to run from them, hoping that, if he ran far enough, it would all just go away. Soon enough, though, he stopped himself, just inside the cottage doors, he'd waited for her. made her breakfast so that she wouldn't realize he'd been such a coward and thought about running away from her, so that, while she'd wake up scared, the feeling would pass at the sight of him waiting for her inside, and she'd never know. Then, once she'd eaten, words had spilled out of his mouth so fast that he didn't even know what he'd said by the end of it. After a few minutes of conversation, her words uttered a final "alright", and she was gone. A memory like that wasn't meant to be let go, in Orlando's mind; it was meant to be held close and learned from. never to be forgotten.  
  
Hearing her tell him that he'd never be able to give himself completely to anyone else, and then using herself as the prime example, nearly caused the man to lose it. She almost sounded disappointed in a sense, and he didn't blame her. He wanted to be able to give himself to her completely, not allow Demeter to hold on to any last part of him, withholding it from Faithe. But, that guilt had sparked a fear that wouldn't never entirely go away. The morning after he had taken he up on his broomstick, it had shown itself; true, while he might have also been worried about how immoral a student-teacher relationship typically was, the thought had really only crossed his mind as an excuse to prevent himself from having to commit himself to anything, or, rather, anyone. Then, on that night upon the dock, when his shoulder had pushed into hers, gently steering her body down towards the wooden planks, although he might have started something, her words just now reminded him that he wouldn't have ever been able to finish it, and, if for whatever reason he had, history, without a doubt, [I]would[/I] have repeated itself. Then again, perhaps he would have learned from the past and not stayed around that time.  
  
Just the thought of leaving yet another girl like he had left Demeter- especially Faithe, whom he never wanted to see hurt ever again after what had happened with Kaytlin- brought that lump back to his throat. He'd caused her so much pain already and she hadn't deserved a single ounce of it; if he'd brought any more hurt into her life, especially something like that. Well, he didn't know what he'd do. He felt lost in that moment, as he pondered the thought, save the feeling of Faithe's hands still upon his face. Then, at the young woman's mention of him being meant for Demeter, or for some other unknown woman in the world, his head looked away- not out of her hands, but away enough to make a point of it.  
  
How could she say something like that? Was it because she felt differently about him now that she knew the vast majority of his past? No, she had still used herself first. Regardless of why it had been said, he felt embarrassed that she had even mentioned it. He was ashamed of what had happened with Demeter, and somewhat humiliated that Faithe knew of it, but, then again, they were supposed to love each other, and people who love each other don't keep secrets. Still, he didn't like how she had become so unsure of them, because, even though he might have still loved Demeter, being with her wasn't worth the price he would have to pay. Every time he would be with her, he'd be plagued by memories, and he couldn't just 'let them go'; they would always be there. Besides, he loved Faithe, too. Whether that was possible- loving two women simultaneously- was something he didn't know, but he knew for an absolute fact that he loved Faithe more than life itself. Theirs wasn't just a relationship of convenience, but, to tell the truth, if the memories of that night had been obliviated from his mind, and he was free from all that "baggage", he didn't know if he would choose to be with Faithe or with Demeter. ((However, the author -does- know.))  
  
Those thoughts were temporarily swept to the back of his mind as she re- introduced Tealyr's name into the conversation. Her words there made sense, although he could hardly believe that Tealyr had ever been in love with (much less attracted to) him. She just. wasn't that type of person. Besides, they were only friends. Still, he couldn't refute the logic behind Faithe's reasoning.  
  
As Faithe's last comment, Orlando felt guilty. He knew she hadn't really been thinking about Tealyr's emotions when she'd said it, but rather her own when she had seen him with Demi in Manhattan. Then, feeling her hands slip from his cheeks, the man leaned his head forward, not wanting her to pull away even though he knew it was inevitable. Hearing her cry, or rather, intuitively knowing she was doing so, his head turned away from her until she spoke again.  
  
[quote]"Orlando, do you regret not staying with Demeter that night?"[/quote]  
  
At her words, his eyes flitted open a little, still locked upon the floor to the side of her as opposed to her body, and thoughts flooded back to him. If he [I]had[/I] stayed, where would it have gotten him? Further from Faithe and closer to the reminder that triggered forgotten feelings and memories in an instant- closer to the tangible source of all his anguish and torment- and, although he may have loved Demeter, he simply couldn't escape what having her would bring with it. Swallowing, he shook his head.  
  
"No." he replied. But, having not been used in awhile, his voice was breathy and the word was nearly unintelligible. Clearing his throat, he repeated himself.  
  
"No, Faithe, I don't." Though quiet, his words were true. At last, he began turning his head towards her, speaking as he did so.  
  
"I love you, and-"  
  
As though he'd been shot through the chest, the man's voice stopped instantaneously there, to be replaced only with a choking gasp.  
  
Darting off the bed, he quickly flew to his knees next to her and his hands grabbed her arm pulling it quickly, but not harshly, away from her shoulder and bringing it into full view, just holding it in his lap. His eyes clouded over with worry and his lips hung partially open as he stared at the fresh scar, with fresh bloodstains surrounding it. Although the man might not have been too apt with potions he knew a healing one when he saw it.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, eyes slowly gazing upwards, hoping to meet hers.  
  
Faithe had been so scared when she'd said Orlando loved Demeter, but her breath had nearly been knocked out of her when he hadn't claimed her to be mistaken. She'd been expecting that he'd confirm it, so why it came to as a shock to her, Faithe didn't know. Swallowing the lump down in her throat, Faithe tried to reason with herself. Just because he loved her did not necessarily mean he was still in love with her. Those were two different feelings, and one was perfectly justifiable. Even married couples who had divorced still loved each other, though they weren't in love anymore. Did Faithe really have the right to inquire about such a thing? Probably not, at least not in her mind. However, Faithe knew she would never feel completely at ease unless she knew the answer. If she was holding so much of herself back, then she knew she wouldn't be being fair to either of them, especially Orlando. He deserved better than that. With a reluctant resolve, she bit down on the tip of her tongue.  
  
"Orlando, are you still in love with Demeter?" Struggling to keep her voice steady and audible, Faithe couldn't even force her eyes up to him. What she would do if he said yes, she still didn't know. She knew she wouldn't be able to be anything more than a friend to him, even though it broke her heart to think of how hard that would be. Faith was on the verge of running out the room. Never in a million years had she thought that she would be put in a position where she would be having to ask Orlando a question that wouild either make them, or break them. It had to be done though, for both their sakes.  
  
If Faithe and Orlando tried to hold on to their relationship while he was in love with another woman, they would be setting themselves up for failure. There could be no more pretending that life was a fairytale. Faithe was not a princess, nor Orlando her Prince Charming, coming to rescue her on his white steed. In fairytales, the princes only had eyes for the one princess, and only had one antagonist to fight. Faithe had to wake up and face the reality. Though Orlando was her Prince Charming, and had saved her in more ways than one, life wasn't a storybook. Despite Shakespeare's words, the world was not a stage. Even the tragedies he wrote had happy endings, if you looked at it the right way.  
  
If Orlando was still in love with Demeter, Faithe knew she would have to let him go. She wouldn't be like Tealyr Montague or Demeter Lawrance, though. No, Faithe could never turn her back on Orlando. No matter what happened to them in the end, Faithe wouldn't abandon him as everybody else had done. That sort of thing just didn't fit Faithe's character. Faithe was the sort of person who would be a friend to an enemy in their time of need, and there was no way she could even think about leaving the man she loved.  
  
When Orlando suddenly bounded over to her, her eyebrows furrowed together in a confusing expression. As he reached for her arm, everything within her became still and cold. She couldn't lie to him, but she certainly couldn't tell him that she had mutilated her body. He was upset and hurting as it was, the last thing she wanted to do was add anger to the mix. There was no need to bring what happened before he arrived up for conversation. It wouldn't happen again.  
  
Faithe found that she didn't regret doing what she'd done. It had given her a small, quiet way to find peace of mind in a moment where all she'd felt was pain and dispair. The more she thought about it, the more justification she found in what she had done. Would everybody have just preferred her to throw a tantrum, like most people? Faithe was a pascifist, for the most part. Of course, the rational part of Faithe was screaming in opposition. It didn't matter how rough and trying life became, there was no excuse for harming herself.  
  
Then there was Jacques. Though she felt no regret for what she had done, Faithe felt so much guilt for opening up all those wounds in his life. Jacques had easily become one of her best friends, and had trusted in her. Faithe absolutely ashamed and disgusted with herself for putting him through such an uncomfortable position. She'd been selfish again, and her selfishness had brought pain unto another person she loved and cared about. Faithe had this strong urge to find him, and talk with him. He had been so upset when he'd walked out the door, and Faithe couldn't blame him. He had just stuck with her through such a trying time, and she'd paid him almost no mind once Orlando had arrived. Before she left, she had to find him.  
  
"I was packing, and broke a glass." She wasn't lying, per say, she just wasn't including the entire truth in her statement. Pulling her arm away, a bit harsher than she had intended, she pointed to the shattered glass that had lain forgotten.  
  
"It's not important. Why did you speak so harshly towards Jacques when you arrived? He didn't deserve it." Changing the subject, Faithe pulled her sleeve back over her hand. There was no conviction or spite in her voice when she spoke, but there was concern. If he thought something had been happening between the two of them, she needed to set that record straight.  
  
((Well, I had that dream I was hoping for, but it didn't happen like I wanted it to. Neither did this post. I meant for it to be a normal post with just a little more Demi/Orlando info, but it turned into a massive flashback that was just confusing to follow. But, I really need to pack for band camp since I have to go shopping with Goo tomorrow morning and we leave for camp at 4 tomorrow. Sorry, Kaycee.))  
  
At her words, Orlando's eyes immediately shut themselves again, scared of letting any of his feelings he desired to spare the girl from escape. There were certain things he couldn't tell her and, if there had been one thing Faithe could have said to completely cripple whatever secrecy Orlando still had, that had been it. His story, thusfar, hadn't been explicit; he'd left certain parts, such as his feelings for Demeter, with an ambiguous sense to them, and, now, she was asking him to draw a line and tell her on which side he stood. Did he love Demeter, or was he [I]in love[/I] with Demeter? Perhaps the most obvious reason he had been so unclear with his words was the fact that he himself didn't know the answer. At first thought, the answer was 'absolutely not'. But, then, considering everything, he wondered if that was really the truth. Resting an elbow on his thigh, he covered his face with his hand, letting out a small sigh as memories flooded back to him.  
  
[I]Demeter squealed upon seeing the delightful array of sunny-side-up eggs and toast upon the table. Running over to him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lifting herself up onto him. But his arms didn't hold her against him with the same enthusiasm; they waited a moment before securing her just enough to make sure she wouldn't fall.  
  
She pulled back from him, then, setting herself upon the ground and, as her head tilted, and those emerald eyes looked into his, Orlando wished to fall through the floorboards. She was so young, so trusting, so eager. and so foolish.  
  
'What's wrong, Orlando?'  
  
Almost in a daze, his fingers reached out, running from her temple, down along her jawline, until his hand cupped her chin lightly. A sort of glaze seemed to cover his brilliantly blue eyes, giving them an eeriness as they waltzed over the young girl's face, taking in every aspect of it reverently, as though he was admiring an artistic masterpiece of sorts.  
  
"Last night was so wrong of me, Demi," he whispered, still entranced as his thumb stroked her face. "I'm so sorry. I got carried away, and. I couldn't stop."  
  
"No, no, no." Demeter pleaded with a soft smile, wrapping her arms around his body again and pushing herself against him as though it would make him stop. "Everything was perfect, Orlando. You didn't do a thing wrong- not a thing."  
  
"Yes, I did," he retorted, holding her tightly to him, "Can't you see, Demi?"[/I]  
  
When he had first told Faithe about Demeter, his story had been vague enough to be considered entirely true, but, as he had told her more and more, he had left out a rather large part of the story, contorting it into a lie itself. He knew he ought to just come clean now, and to tell her exactly how he and Demeter had 'just faded away', that it had been his doing alone. Somehow, though, he couldn't get up the nerve to tell her that he had pushed Demeter from his life because he didn't know if she would be able to understand everything. He did, though. Although he had done wrong, everything he did from the moment Demeter had seen him that morning had been right. He had taken responsibility for his actions, and had taken responsibility for Demeter's as well, and it had been he who gave the ultimatum and split them up. He had had to; it was the only choice.  
  
She hadn't understood, and he had had to make her see. Doing what he did, he risked so many things. Hurting her, ruining their relationship, getting her pregnant. He had been so in over his head emotionally that logic hadn't seemed like a priority that night, but once he had awoken, his brain seemingly returned to him. Demeter, however, still didn't understand. He hadn't expected her to, of course; she was in love- seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. She had just kept repeating herself- telling him that he hadn't done anything wrong- only because she didn't get it. At that moment, she didn't realize how severe things were. She didn't care that he'd taken something from her that he couldn't ever give back, because, at that moment, she wanted him to have it. She gave herself to him completely that night, and he gave himself to her, but, the difference was that she didn't seem to consider what would happen if they ever split up. He was sure that he'd still want her to have had that part of himself, but did she feel the same way? They weren't married and they weren't competent- they were two young, foolish, and enamored people who had ended up together somehow. Things weren't set in stone and anything could happen at any time to split them apart; they still had their entire lives ahead of them.  
  
He didn't expect her to see what he could, but it didn't stop him from voicing the concern. Never in the future did he want her to begrudge him for what happened. True, she hadn't ever seemed the least bit reluctant as she had followed his lead- from just allowing him to slide her tank top's strap down her shoulder to heal the cut upon her shoulder blade to what followed that- but the fact that he hadn't ever asked her if she wanted him to stop, that he hadn't ever given her a choice. he felt guilty for it, and it was for that reason that he did what he did. He hadn't wanted her to continue to stay with him until she was completely clear exactly who he was. He didn't want her to wake up one morning ten years later and realize then how horrible Orlando was and to be upset that she had wasted so much of her precious time on Earth with him. So, he had made it easy for her: he left.  
  
[I]"Someday, Demi, you'll see what I'm trying to tell you," he whispered, having never allowed his fingers to leave her face, "And if, after you realize what I've done to you, you forgive me, and accept me, and love me still, then you'll know where to find me. If that ever happens, somehow I know I'll see you again. Until then, please. just tell me you understand why I'm doing this."[/I]  
  
The words flooded back into his mind as if he had just spoken them aloud, and it was then that everything clicked. He had forgotten about those words when he'd seen Demeter in Manhattan earlier this year, but now, as he recalled them, the man let out a terrible sigh. When she had seen him, Demeter had been trying to tell him something, but he hadn't gotten it. Now, as he grasped exactly what she had been there for, everything was different. But, no. if everything was truly different, then why had he felt so right about leaving her and running back to Faithe in Manhattan? Because he didn't know then what he had only just realized now: Demeter had finally accepted him. He'd gotten through to her, and she understood. Now, the only question that remained was: was it too late?  
  
"I can't be." he replied quietly, though not too convincingly, finally lifting his head and looking back at Faithe.  
  
He hoped that was enough, for it was all the man could say at the moment. However, he longed to speak more, to tell her that he couldn't be in love with Demeter when he was in love with her, but, for some reason, he couldn't form those words. He knew for a fact that he loved Faithe, but was he in love with her? Thinking about it, the man reasoned that he had to be. How else could he possibly feel about her? But, then, what of Demeter? How else could he possibly feel about [I]her[/I]?  
  
((I think that this would be a good time to revert to my earlier post and insert the "I love you, and-" break strain in order to fit together the plot pieces, however, if you disagree, that's cool. It's just a suggestion. I mean, have Faithe reply, 'cause the "I love you, and-" can come afterwards, or he can interrupt her, or. whatever))  
  
As Faithe jerked her arm away from him, Orlando recoiled, somewhat hurt (emotionally) by how quickly and roughly she had pulled her arm from her grasp. It was as though she didn't want him touching her, and, with the way things were going for them that evening, he understood.  
  
His eyes flitted momentarily to the glass upon the floor before reverting his gaze to her arm and then to her eyes. There was no way she had all the ingredients or the time to make such a complicated potion, and he hadn't ever known Faithe to be the clumsy or careless type who would be cut so severely by just breaking a glass. Then, had he heard her right? Packing? Where was she- Stopping in mid-thought, the man answered the question himself. She truly was leaving; he had only come in before she'd had a chance to leave.  
  
"I was upset, and I let my emotions manifest themselves in ways they shouldn't have." Orlando replied crisply, but more matter-of-factly than rudely. "I said earlier that it was uncalled for, but I guess you didn't hear me."  
  
Flitting his eyes back to her arm, he reached for it, figuring there was no harm to do now; she was already leaving, and he might as well pull out all the stops. Even if he didn't manage to pull her arm back to her lap, his fingers did snag the fabric and pushed it (at least momentarily) upwards, revealing the fresh scar.  
  
"I know I don't really have the right to ask, but please, Faithe, tell me the truth. What happened? Did Jacques hurt you?"  
  
The moment his eyes closed, Faithe wanted to die. That, in itself, was a silent answer to her question. Closing her eyes, her hand covered her eyes in hopes of preventing herself from crying. It seemed a silly thing to do, really. Her hands wouldn't prevent the tears from spilling over, but she did manage to recover for the time being. Struggling to keep her breath steady, she dropped her hand back to her lap. There was almost a desolate expression in her eyes - her eyes that she couldn't face him with.  
  
When he looked at her, Faithe felt his eyes staring at her, but still couldn't bring herself to look at him. This was it, then. Standing up, she walked over to the dresser she had originally stored her clothes in, but had yet to finish packing. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a small, cardboard box. Walking back over to where he sat, she kneeled down next to him. Reaching in, she pulled out a small box, and opened it. Pulling out a small gold star, one that resembled the same as hers and Kaytlin's, only gold, Faithe lifted his hand and placed it in his palm.  
  
"It was the first one I ever enchanted myself." Somehow, she managed to keep her voice within her normal octave, though her voice was dripping with pain. "It links you to me and Kaytlin, and mine was modified to do the same. If you ever want to check up on her, for whatever reason..." Allowing her voice to trail off, her hands dropp back down to the box.  
  
"If you don't want it, I understand. I know she was quite taken with you." Faithe was really struggling to keep herself in her right mind. Pulling out a keychain, she set it down next to him. "You have a lot of things you need to work out Orlando, and I'd rather be here for you as a friend than to try to hold onto something that isn't meant for me." I'm going to throw up.  
  
***  
  
Hearing his words, Faithe's eyebrows furrowed together as her eyes watered up. The inflection in his voice killed her, but it tortured her even more to know that it was aimed at her. When he reached for her arm, her whole body flinched as she were afraid he was going to hit her. Shaking her head at the accusation he had thrown at Jacques, Faithe was stunned that he had even thought about Jacques Hilton hurting anybody.  
  
"Jacques would never hurt me Orlando. Why are you so set against him suddenly?" Speaking in a timid manner, Faithe shook her head softly as she inquired about his sudden dislike for the prefect. "He helped me."  
  
((Yours wasn't dreadful, and I adored the way you brought to star into things. [I]This[/I] is dreadful, but I'm hoping that you can reply before I have to leave so that I can write a reply and send it to you from band camp. I'll be on around 2 or 3 your time))  
  
As Faithe turned away from him, and he watched her walk away, Orlando felt something he'd never quite felt before. It was a mix of selfish sorrow, selfless guilt and too many other emotions to name. She was leaving, truly, and he could have stopped her. but, then again, he couldn't. He wouldn't lie to her again, ever again. especially not about something like this. Although it wasn't exactly the same situation, he felt as though the scene in Manhattan was playing itself out all over again, only this time he wasn't going to get her back.  
  
Did he want her back? Certainly. That was, without a doubt, true. Faithe knew everything about him, and it had felt so wonderful not to have to wear a front with her, but he couldn't answer the question of if he was truly in love with her. He wanted to be- after all they had been through, all signs pointed to yes- but he couldn't say it, and, if he couldn't look her in the eyes and tell her that he was completely in love with her and only her. then perhaps it was best he let her go. Again, though, he didn't want to. He knew that, at that moment, he was ripping her still-beating heart out of her chest and seemingly smashing it to the ground maliciously, but, really, if he was killing her, it more a form on manslaughter than murder.  
  
As his eyes cast themselves upon the golden star in her hands, the man let out a quiet gasp, almost intuitively knowing what was coming. Of course, that foresight probably made the whole thing harder for him to go through rather than easier. At the touch of her hand, he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from making any other noises. He was the one that was causing this pain and whatever he felt had to be minute compared to what he was causing Faithe to go through; he didn't have the right to be hurt. Looking down at the star for a moment, his eyes lingered upon it before returning to Faithe's, glazed over with tears and radiating nothing but apologetic gratitude.  
  
While she trailed off and her hand dropped from his, Orlando pursed his lips together for a moment, knowing that that would probably be the last time his hand ever felt the sensation of hers upon it. In all honesty, the man never thought he and Faithe would end, much less that he would be the cause if something ever were to happen.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Faithe," he whispered as his eyes looked to hers. "Really, I- "  
  
[quote]"If you don't want it, I understand. I know she was quite taken with you."[/quote]  
  
Closing his hand around the star, he shook his head. Of course he wanted it. He had found himself rather charmed by Kaytlin as well, and, even though he may not have been in love with Faithe, he [I]did[/I] love her. Taking the keychain from the ground, he gathered it in his hand somberly.  
  
"[I]As a friend.[/I]"  
  
Faithe as a friend. only a friend. The thought echoed through his mind a few times over. How could she torture herself like that? Not that he wanted her out of his life, but just knowing that she was in love with him and yet could still want to be with him so badly that she'd sacrifice herself to have a friendship with him rather than nothing. He wanted to hold her close to him just then, to make everything alright, and some part of him still longed to kiss her, but none of those things could happen.  
  
She was right when she said he had a lot of things to work out. He had tried to back in Manhattan, but he'd been too hasty, too eager to get back to Faithe, to do so correctly, and now it was all coming back to haunt him.  
  
"[I].than to try to hold onto something that isn't meant for me.[/I]"  
  
Those words right there plunged a knife into the man's chest and twisted it several times over. He didn't know what to do, though. What could he do? Nothing that would help, that was sure.  
  
"Faithe." he whispered, "I didn't want things to turn out like this. I'm. I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."  
  
***  
  
"So, it was his potion that healed you?" Orlando replied, more stating a fact rather than asking a question. Sighing, he shook his head.  
  
"I'm not set against my own house's prefect, I'm just. I don't know. I just want to know what happened, because you're not maladroit enough to cut yourself that badly from breaking a glass.  
  
"Obviously, you didn't just pick up a piece of glass and slice your arm open," he declared as though it was the most ludicrous thing in the world, "so I thought maybe Jacques had gotten upset with you, or just been upset in general, and you had gotten caught in the crossfire.  
  
"I don't know, Faithe! What happened?"  
  
Hearing him apologize, Faithe shook her head. She had known something like this would happen, but she had tried to feed herself a lie. A lie that Orlando truly did want to be with her, but part of her, deep down, had known better. She had been a substitute, a rebound. The only person she was good enough for, apparently, was a man who was willing to kidnap her niece so he could marry her.  
  
"Orlando, don't apologize for your feelings. Who are we to say they weren't supposed to turn out this way? We all have one person for us in this world, and if I'm not it, you have no reason to feel sorry." Biting her bottom lip to keep it from wavering, Faithe held his gaze, somehow. She was determined not to cry in front of him, the first time she'd ever done that with him.  
  
***  
  
quote:  
  
...you didn't just pick up a piece of glass and slice your arm open  
  
  
Wincing at those words, Faithe's eyes fell to the ground. Swallowing harshly, she looked up when he had finished his little rant. She couldn't lie to him, but at this point, Faithe didn't want to discuss it.  
  
"I wasn't exactly calm and sane when I was packing, professor. People step out of character when they're upset." It had been so long since Faithe hadn't used his first name, but somehow it seemed to fit the mood.  
  
"Yes, it was Jacques' potion. He saw me upset and checked on me. I should probably go find him. He was upset when he left and he doesn't need to be alone when he's upset." She hadn't really meant to say anything about Jacques' problem, or anything leading to it, but that had slipped out. Faithe did need to find him, though. He said he was still cutting, and if he was, she didn't know how upset he had to be before he started. Standing up, she pulled the sleeve back down over her arm.  
  
"Please," Orlando entreated her as she spoke, "Don't..."  
  
'Don't what? Don't make me feel bad? Don't tell me you're the not the one for me when I want you to be so badly but still can't tell you that I'm in love with you?' Yeah, that sounded great and was just soooo logical. He didn't know what he was feeling, or why he was feeling it. Demeter was supposed to be behind him, and he was supposed to be completely in love with Faithe. They were going to be happy together, she was going to dance for a few years while he saved up money, then he was going to ask her to marry him, and they would live happily ever after- in love. But nothing was going right; everything was a mess.  
  
"I want to be in love with you, Faithe..." he said, immediately knowing that wasn't exactly a good thing to say the moment the words had escaped his lips. Now he'd just admitted to her that he wasn't in love with her, and admitted the same to himself, more importantly.  
  
She was everything he wanted, everything he needed, everything inside of him that he wished he could be; she said all the right things at exactly the right times, but she meant nothing to him, and he didn't know why. Well, not nothing, but nothing in the romantic sense... Why couldn't he just be in love with Faithe and forget all about Demeter? Was it guilt? Jealousy? Or just wistful thinking about the past coming back?  
  
"That was a horrible thing to say..." he said quickly, knowing that nothing he could possibly say would take away the memory of those words from her mind. Something like that... it didn't just fade away the moment the audio waves died out; it echoed forever through one's head, incessantly repeating itself.  
  
***  
  
As Faithe winced, Orlando's eyes widened in panic. Had she really don't something like that? Her explanation seemed to insinuate such. But then, it didn't seem like she was going to discuss it with him... especially not when she referred to him as "Professor" which, in itself, prompted the man to gnaw upon his tongue. He hadn't been called that by her in ages, and the word coming from her mouth sounded foreign in a sense. But, that was what happened when people moved on...  
  
"I'm not your professor anymore," he replied, not spitefully at all. "You've graduated, and you can call me 'Orlando'..."  
  
It was sickening really, how they had begun starting all over again, and he was just telling her that they could go on a "first-name-basis". so sickening he almost wanted to retch.  
  
Hearing about Jacques, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Doesn't need to be left alone when he's upset? What did she mean by that? His thoughts were interrupted, however, as she stood.  
  
"So this is it?" he managed to utter, standing up as well and looking at her with a tilted head. "You're leaving?"  
  
Don't what? Be honest? In Faithe's eyes, she was being honest. He didn't love her, he never had. She was second rate, and she had always known it. It's how her life had always been, which is why she had stayed away from relationships. Orlando was better than she could have ever hoped for, even if she had only been blessed to catch a glimpse of what her dream life was.  
  
quote:  
  
I want to be in love with you, Faithe...  
  
Her eyes closed as his words hit her in the face, like a brick being thrown. Opening her eyes slowly, she had to coach herself silently to keep breathing. Swallowing the incessant lump in her throat, she shook her head.  
  
"It wasn't a horrible thing to say. It's how you feel. There's no shame in it." She had always known she was never good enough for Orlando's love, but hearing him say it after so many oppositional debates the two had had, still brought tears to Faithe's eyes. Looking away, she managed to keep control of herself and her emotions. "And I don't blame you."  
  
**  
  
"It's a sense of propriety, Professor Lorenz."  
  
"I've already missed my boat, if that's what you mean. I'll be leaving first thing in the morning." Speaking softly, her eyes flitted towards the clock, though it didn't really matter. Her eyes moved from the clock between the two beds to the shattered glass on the ground. She turned her head quickly away, shutting out the longing she had to walk over there and pick up a shard.  
  
"It will give us at least another week to rehearse." Not that it was important, but Faithe was trying to reason out the advantages of having her heart pulled out and beaten to a pulp.  
  
"If you ever need a friend, don't hesitate to write me." She wouldn't turn her back on him, no matter how much it hurt her to see him. He'd had to endure people treating him unjustly because of how he felt too many times, and Faithe wouldn't allow herself to be one of those people.  
  
Seeing her eyes close and fail to open quickly, Orlando grimaced mentally. He hadn't meant it like it had come out. It was aimed at comforting her, and it wasn't his aim that was off, but rather the arrow he was shooting with. Those words he had used held a certain undercurrent to them; however inadverent it was, he was, in a sense, telling Faithe that something was wrong with her. Of course, the first words that popped into his mind were (ironically), "It's not you, it's me", but he knew better than to say something that clichéd. It would rub away at an already raw wound rather than heal it.  
  
"Yes, yes it was," he countered, "I shouldn't have said it at all, no matter what reasoning was behind it. It's not fair of me to do that to you..."  
  
'[i]Why are you still here?[/i]' he wanted to ask, wondering how she could possibly still look at him, be in the same room as him, and still be treating him, not only civilly, but warmly after all he'd put her through.  
  
Still gnawing on his tongue, he warily reached out with a hand and made an attempt to turn her face towards him, slowly and gently, simultaneously wiping a few tears from her cheek.  
  
"You [i]have[/i] to blame me," he added, as though he was telling a young child that, yes, they did have to clean their room. "It's my fault, Faithe, not yours... not yours at all."  
  
Well, he'd avoided the clichéd words, but he was certainly failing at avoiding their connotation...  
  
**  
  
[quote]"It's a sense of propriety, Professor Lorenz." [/quote]  
  
He hated hearing such formality pass through the lips he used to kiss so passionately. It was as though nothing had ever happened between them. Biting his lower lip, he tilted his head back for a brief moment, almost as if he was asking some higher being why this was happening to him.  
  
Well, it was nice that she wasn't leaving until morning... Not that it mattered, really, though. What else could be said or done? Besides, it was nighttime, and late already; she'd probably just gotten up to insinuate he should leave so she could sleep... or rather cry herself to sleep. Just the thought of Faithe crying over him, over what he'd done to her... The guilt was rather comparable to that which he'd felt about Demeter.  
  
[quote]"If you ever need a friend, don't hesitate to write me."[/quote]  
  
The way she had spoken just then... it wasn't that it was unexpected, but rather that he couldn't believe she would submit herself to such torture. He knew she had been (if she wasn't still) in love with him, and, being someone's first true love... well, no one truly gets completely over that ever... How could she be so casually flippant, yet still so kind? She was truly leaving him, but refused to go away without leaving him some way of still keeping her in his life... just as friends, though... nothing more, but nothing less.  
  
"Faithe..." he began, speaking softly, through someone clenched (yet not angry at all) ((like, if you put your tongue between your top and bottom teeth, bite it, then pull it back and put both rows of teeth together and speak while drawing your breath in... kinda like that)) teeth. What? What was he going to say? What [i]could[/i] he say?  
  
"I..."  
  
'[i]I what? I want you to stay with me. I still want to see you, hold you, laugh with you... take up all of your time and prevent anyone else from loving you even though I can't myself?[/i]' No, that wasn't fair. He had to let her go, to get on with her life without him. It would be better for her to forget him completely, as he had done with Demeter. If he remained in her life, or tried to come back into it, like Demeter had done to him, he'd be holding her back from all the good things that could happen to her, and he wouldn't do that.  
  
"I won't be writing you," he finished after a moment. "You-" He paused for a brief instant, almost choking on his words but fighting to give them the resolve they needed to be convincing, "You won't hear from me again after tonight. I promise... I won't drag you down with my problems anymore. You don't deserve that..."  
  
Her eyebrows furrowed at his words, trying to keep herself from crying. Now she was causing him guilty. Good job Faithe. How many more times are you going to dig the knife deeper in this whole situation? Reprimanding herself silently, Faithe shook her head. His touch felt like a flame, burning her skin. It was almost tantilizing in a malicious sort of way, teasing her with the soft caress of his hand on her skin.  
  
"No, it isn't your fault. It's my fault for trying to live a life not meant for me. I can't keep you to myself if it isn't what you want, nor did I have any right trying to pretend that it was. All I want from you is to be happy, and I can accept it that I can't bring to your life what you need." There was a genuine air in her voice as she spoke, and she managed to keep her tears inside her eyes. Reaching up, she took his hand, removing it from her face and laying it down in his lap.  
  
***  
  
Her eyes flitted from the floor to his eyes when he said he wouldn't write her. Opening her mouth to speak, she found her voice have suddenly ceased to work. Closing it, her lips rolled inwardly and she bit her bottom lip so hard and relentlessly, it didn't take long before she tasted the salty taste of blood on the tip of her tongue. Falling back to the ground, her eyes were once more threatning to rain the liquid of her emotions. ((Wow, that sounded really stupid.))  
  
"I understand. I mean, why would you want to keep in touch with an ex- student?" Shrugging to herself, Faithe's voice came out wavering and meek. Walking to the table, she grabbed her room key and pocketed it. He didn't want anything to do with her. Fine, she would have to live with it. She wasn't good enough even for a friend, but how could that possibly surprise her? Her parents were right - she had one path in life, and that was the same path every member in her family had taken. She had been naive to think that she could ever have an ideal life - she had to make the life she was given ideal.  
  
"I need to find Jacques. Good luck with Demeter." Unable to meet his eyes one last time, Faithe walked for the door, not giving him time to respond to her last rhetorical question. Sidestepping into the bathroom momentarily, she lifted the shard of glass from earlier and hiding it in her balled up fist, inside the sleeve. Stepping back beside the door and opening it, she stepped out, her eyes searching up and down the hallway as the door clicked shut behind her.  
  
Finally free from Orlando's gaze, Faiteh allowed the tears in her eyes to run free. Hitting the button to the elevator, she had a strong sense of deja vu. She was always being thrown aside, and towards the elevator because of Demeter. Not that she blamed the woman, or Orlando, it was her fault. Her fault for being as stupid as she was to think that she could ever fill that void in Orlando's heart. Stepping onto the elevator, she hit the bottom for the bottom deck, the storage deck.  
  
In a sense, Orlando felt as though he was going through some sort of sickening déja vu. Once more, he was making one of those decisions that he didn't want to, but was for the best. Faithe's words were so incredibly wrong that Orlando had to restrain himself from shouting at her as she spoke. She couldn't have been more wrong if she'd tried. How come she couldn't see that he [I]did[/I] want her to keep him to herself, that he [I]did[/I] want to be with her? He just couldn't feel that way about her. Love, even lust, wasn't a feeling one could will themselves to have. It had to come of its own accord, and it wasn't.  
  
He could see the pain he was bringing to her, and, for a moment, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could will himself to forget about Demeter, about running off in search of her, trying to bring back the past. Why, when he could have something just as good (if not better) here, with Faithe, did he want to sacrifice it for something he'd had so long ago? Perhaps it was just sick human nature- wanting that which one cannot have- but he knew he couldn't be with Faithe unless things fell through with Demeter. It wasn't that she was his second choice, but merely that he couldn't be fair to her and give her his complete and absolute self until he got back the part of it Demeter still held on to.  
  
Again, the man's mind couldn't be made up. Was he letting Faithe go because he was really trying to do what was best for her, or was that all just a lie he was telling himself because he didn't want to admit that he was still in love with Demeter and that the whole time he had been with Faithe, he had just been using her affection as a replacement for what he'd given up?  
  
Letting her hand take his from her face, he gazed into her eyes, shaking his head sorrowfully.  
  
"No." he whispered, "Faithe. it's not that. It's just. I never. Things with Demi. they just never got completely wrapped up. I tried to push her out of my mind after it first happened, then, in Manhattan, I tried to do it again, but I just can't. and I don't want to be with you until I can promise you that I'm not in love with her anymore- any part of her.  
  
"I want to ask you to wait for me; I want to beg you to understand everything; and I want to be so in love with you that you're all I can think about, but none of those things can happen right now. And I know. I know it's not fair of me to be telling you any of this, because all I'm doing is making this harder for you, but I can't let you think that you weren't ever enough for me, or that I was never totally and completely enamored with you. You're perfect, Faithe; you really are. I'm not though, not by a long shot."  
  
***  
  
[quote]"I understand. I mean, why would you want to keep in touch with an ex-student?"[/quote]  
  
"Faithe, that's not it at all!" Orlando's voice came out a bit louder than intended, almost making him sound angry, but not quite. His voice was too hurt to be perceived as mad.  
  
"You're not just an ex-student to me," he retorted, "You're so much more than that, and that's why I can't write you. I can't keep you on this string like some pet and involve you in every aspect of my life when all it's going to do it hurt you. You don't' deserve it. I won't keep you in limbo like that, never letting you know if I want and love you with every ounce of my being or if you're just a substitute because my heart still belongs to Demeter. I don't even know how I feel, Faithe!"  
  
((insert "I need to find Jacques. Good luck with Demeter." here))  
  
As she moved around the room, he could do nothing but watch in silence. For a moment after she'd left, he had just stood there, wondering if he should go off after her. Eventually, he decided it would be better to go elsewhere. maybe to go crawling back to an old friend. But, he couldn't leave Faithe without telling her something.  
  
Walking out of the room, he caught a glimpse of her blue skirt as she turned the corner towards the elevator shaft. Running down the deck, he whipped around the corner just in time to place his hand upon the door and prevent it from shutting.  
  
"I meant it when I said that I want to be in love with you, and I know those aren't the right words, but it's all I can say. I just. Everything with us, Faithe. every little thing has been perfect, you know that, don't you? I love you; I really do, but I just can't tell you I'm completely yours- completely in love with you- until Demeter is absolutely gone from me. She has to be out of my heart, out of my mind. just. gone.  
  
"Please," he implored, "just tell me you understand this isn't your fault."  
  
H ow could Faithe wait for something that she doubted would ever come? She couldn't, but Faithe didn't exactly foresee Orlando having anything to worry about when it came to Faithe finding somebody else. She wasn't the relationship type of girl, and that had just been proven once more, only differently than anytime before. He was right though, his talking like this was driving the sword deeper into her heart. Lowering her eyes, she shook her head slowly.  
  
"No. It wasn't fair of me to try to hold you away from her. There's no sense in our arguing about this, we're just going in circles." Crossing her arms, her eyes flitted from the floor up to his face.  
  
"And I'm not perfect. I am so far from perfection." As she said this, her thoughts drifted to the moments before Orlando had showed up. No, somebody who had achieved perfection would never have done that. "You need her, and I understand that. I was a fool for thinking I could even begin to take her place. The two of you have a bond, and I'm not part of that. I refuse to stand in your way. And that's all that needs to be said about it." There was conviction in her voice as she spoke, truly wishing the conversation to be over with. They were running in a neverending circle, and that's all it would continue to be.  
  
***  
  
Jumping slightly as he raised his voice, Faithe took a step back. She couldn't hide the fearful look on her face at his outburst of volume. Ever since the deal with Eddie, Faithe had become skittish around any unpleasant confrontations that involved raised voices. Shaking her head, Faithe bit her tongue before speaking.  
  
"I don't want you to be left without a friend. You don't deserve it. I'm not going to walk away from this like some sore loser - like some spiteful, scorned lover. You don't want anything to do with me, and I can accept that. Enough said." Despite the harshness that some of her words conveyed, Faiteh showed no hint of being angry, or spiteful.  
  
quote:  
  
just tell me you understand that this isn't your fault at all  
  
  
Faithe had been in the process of slipping the piece of glass from one hand to the next. Luckily, depending on how it was percieved, she had yet to do so when Orlando appeared in front of her. Listening to him, she reached up with her free hand and wiped away the streams her tears had left.  
  
"I'd like to say what you want to hear, but I'm not going to lie to you. I find so many faults, so many things I did wrong, and I know I have my part in this as well." Stepping forward, she removed his hand gently. Hitting the close button, she stared at his eyes, her own eyes radiating pain and desolation. Once she was staring back at herself from the metal door, she slumped against the wall.  
  
"But you didn't hold me from her, Faithe," Orlando said quietly, "I did, and it wasn't for any other reason except my feelings for you. I wanted to be with [I]you[/I], and I still want to be with you."  
  
The man trailed off there, knowing that he couldn't possibly be making any sort of sense to the poor young woman just then. If he wanted to be with her so badly, then why wasn't he? Logically, it didn't work out, but no one ever claimed that emotions fit the mold logic made for them.  
  
As her arms folded, Faithe seemed possessed, in a sense. She had never crossed her arms at him; then again, she had never really had reason to be angry with him before either. Of course, this entire night hadn't exactly been characteristic of their relationship thusfar.  
  
Sighing, the man's eyes closed momentarily. Everything was just spinning further and further out of control. Why was everything going wrong? And, on that same topic, why couldn't he just forget Demeter and fall back in love with Faithe? It wasn't as if he'd ever see Demi again, right? But, no, the man knew himself too well. Although he could block the woman out of his thoughts for a certain amount of time, like he had done when he had originally fallen in love with the young Athenian, there would- until he had completely worked out everything and understood the mechanics of why he and Demeter had failed- always be a moment in whatever relationship he found himself in where her essence would ebb away at him, and he would find himself, once more, emotionally paralyzed- unable to allow himself to love anyone for fear of wronging her the way he had wronged Demeter. or perhaps worse. For what was worse than sleeping with someone when a part of your heart still laid with someone else?  
  
"Alright, maybe you're not perfect to you Faithe, but, to me, there isn't a thing I'd change about you.  
  
"This isn't about me needing her and you filling her place," he said almost desperately, trying to release Faithe's guilt, "But now that I've said all I can, so I'll stop."  
  
*** As Faithe jumped, Orlando grimaced apologetically. He hadn't meant his voice to be so forceful, but he couldn't have possibly helped his emotions manifestation.  
  
"No, Faithe," he replied when she had finished, trying not to allow his voice to crescendo to any louder than a mezzo piano. He has sort of arguing incessantly with her, but he simply couldn't remain silent and let her believe something so wrong. "I want [I]everything[/I] to do with you." Reaching a hand up, he ran it along her face then set it back by his side.  
  
***  
  
He wanted to hold his hand on the door and allow it to be smashed by the cold metal rather than let Faithe's move it out of the way; any pain would be better than letting her go. Yet, he knew he ought not push her, and moved his hand away the second hers had touched it. The door began to close, and his eyes, filled with despair and remorse, didn't leave hers until it had closed complete.  
  
Pounding his fists upon the metal gateway once he was sure Faithe couldn't hear, he failed to relent until his hands had grown numb.  
  
"What could [I]you[/I] have possibly done wrong?" he cried, slowly slumping against the door and allowing his body to eventually land upon the floor in a crumpled mass. It had been he who had caused the problems, destroyed the sanctity they'd shared, and just plain ruined everything, not just with Faithe, but with Demeter, with Tealyr, for his family.. How could he set everything right again? Could he even dream up a way to perform such a miracle? Probably not, nothing could possibly fix [I]every[/I]thing he'd screwed up in his twenty-two years of existence. Perhaps, though, there were [I]some[/I]things he could fix, or, at least, try to fix.  
  
Sighing to himself, he picked his limp corpse off of the deck boards and tried to turn himself around, but found such an action impossible without lingering a moment to stare at the door where Faithe had stood moments earlier. Delirious, his mind contorted his reflection into one of Faithe and he saw her eyes staring back at him in the moment before he forced himself to look away and carry out what reparations he could.  
  
Within a short while he had reached his destination. Knocking upon the stateroom door of one Tealyr Soleil Montague, he sighed again, praying the woman would answer and, if she did, that she wouldn't slam the door in his face.  
  
Closing her eyes, Tealyr Montague sauntered over to a chair and fell backwards on it. She deftly plucked the waning cigarette from her lips and extinguished it in an ashtray on the table beside her. She massaged her temple slowly, fingers slipping down to the bridge of her nose. A migraine was pounding inside of her skull at that moment.  
  
And why wouldn't it be? The last hour or so of her life had been the most stressful in years. She had taken a simple stroll across the deck, only to discover what had been Rosencrantz's best kept secret of the past year. Old battle wounds had been mercilessly slashed open again as she had reentered the battle that, supposedly, had ended a long time ago. And now...what was she to do?  
  
Part of her wanted to contact her mother immediately. Fueled by a repressed anger that had been boiling all these years, deep inside of her that she had learned to ignore, she wanted to let words that would more than merely tarnish the reputations of many people. A smirk crossed her lips as she thought of other possibilities; she could contact the Seraph, the wizarding equivalent of shows like E! True Hollywood Story. There could be book rights, movie rights...her name in the papers... Shaking her head, she stood and walked over to the sink. She could never do that...or could she?  
  
No, no, she couldn't...It was tempting, though. It would "pay him back" for all of the torment that she had gone through. She could even drag that wench, Demeter, into this... It would give her fame...get her out of a dead- end job that she positively hated...No, no...that was wrong...  
  
She looked up as she heard a knock on the door. Shaking her head, she lit up another cigarette and, fully prepared to magically castrate whoever dared bother her at this hour (It was probably that annoying steward), glanced into the peep-hole. Well, insert an (expletitive deleted) here, it was Orlando Corvello Lorenz. She snatched her blue satin bathrobe off of a nearby chair, hurriedly putting it on over her clothes and making sure that her tank top wasn't peeking out from underneath. She set the cigarette down in the ash tray and ran a hand through her hair, offering an agitated 'Be right there!' to the person behind the door.  
  
Looking back at her dishelved stateroom, she opened the door just enough so that she was fully visible. Her frame blocked the remainder of the view into her room.  
  
"Do you mind?!" she hissed, "You can't come in right now...I've got company."  
  
She put emphasis on the last word to show that it was, indeed, that kind of company. Tilting her head to the side, she took in his distraught appearance with a strong animosity in her eyes. 


	10. As Time Goes On

"Aunt Belle? Are you coming to dinner with us tonight?" The sweet, innocent voice of Kaytlin met Faithe's ears over the reciever.  
  
"No, babygirl. It's just you, Daddy, and Betha." Lacing up her pointe shoes, Faithe had the phone cradled between her ear and shoulder.  
  
"Do you have to practice tonight?" There was an undercurrent of disapointment in the five year old's face.  
  
"Yes, but I'm practicing at home tonight. Your dad and Betha want to take you out with just the two of them." Standing up, Faithe walked through a doorway into an extra bedroom. The room was really the master, but she had turned it into a makeshift studio. Her bedroom wasn't much smaller than the studio room, so it hadn't been too much of a sacrifice.  
  
"Oooh...But you are coming over tomorrow night, right?" Her voice quavered slightly as she spoke, sounding as if the thought of her not being able to see Faithe scared her.  
  
"Of course! Nothing could keep me away from you on your birthday!" As she spoke, Faithe slid down into a straddle split. Holding the phone with her hand, she leaned forward, resting her elbow on the floor, and her chin on her fist.  
  
"Good! Daddy says I have to go now. We're leaving." In the background, Faithe could hear Jake's voice calling from another room.  
  
"All right sweets. Good night and have fun." Sitting up straight, Faithe brought her legs together in front of her.  
  
"Good night. I love you, Aunt Belle."  
  
"Love you too sweetie. Bye." Hanging up the phone, she stretched forwards, grabbing the bottom of her ballet shoe. Standing up on her toes, she stretched her arms above her head. Standing up on her toes, she stretched her arms up as far as they would go. Dropping her arms to her side, she went back to standing flat footed. Walking back to the living room, she set the phone back in its cradle before returning to the room. Walking over to the CD player, she put in a Tchaikovsky disk.  
  
There was one month left until the premier of the ballet. The last month had been spent learning the work, and the upcoming month was to be spent making perfection. Faithe, as well as the entire company, had been working eleven hour days. It was all worth the time, though. The first three weeks of the summer had been spent retraining her body with a private instructor on the west coast. Her body had been recoached into doing everything she'd been able to do since before her fall.  
  
Returning from the SS Ecstacy, Faithe had returned and finished her training early. After that, she'd camped out at Jake's for a week while she found herself an apartment, though her apartment was more like a condo. Since her parents had been content with her choice to pursue ballet, they had given her the money she needed to pay for it. However, with the money she had made the past month, Faithe had begun saving as much as she could. As she had promised herself, her eyes had not fouind their way to the heaven since her last night on the ship. The boxes of stars she'd had were put away in her parents' attic, much to their delight, and where she had no intention of moving them. She was saving her money in case she did want to pursue other career options, and if they weren't to her parents' liking, then she'd have a fallback.  
  
Just the same, her lack of eating and the incessant physical exertion was evident in the weight she had lost. Many nights she had awaken from sleep in a cold swear. Nightmares had become an integral part of her sleep process, and Faithe's pale complexion was a testimony to the lack of sleep she was getting. Sometimes she had nightmares about the night Kaytlin had been kidnapped, and about the day Eddie had returned with her. Occasionally she would dream that Eddie had been set free. Her most terrifying dreams were those where Orlando was getting hurt, and a couple where he had been killed by some unknown figure. When those hit, Faithe would wake up screaming, her body trembling, and she would start bawling. It was during those times she was thankful for the star. So many nights she had been terrified her dreams were happening as they played out in her mind. The relief she felt when his yellow light radiated from her was indescribeable.  
  
Then came the thought that is she had only been a better girlfriend, a better friend, simply a better person, then she wouldn't have had to rely on a necklace. Those would be the nights Faithe cried herself to sleep, which was nearly every night. She tried to forget about that night, the past year, but it haunted her. When she finally admitted to herself that she wouldn't be able to simply push her pain down, Faithe overloaded her schedule to busy her mind. Jake had suggested that she try dating, but Faithe wouldn't even consider it.  
  
"There's no sense in setting up something that's doomed to fail from the beginning." She had reasoned with him on more than one occassion.  
  
"It wouldn't necessarily fail. I thought the same thing until Betha and I went out."  
  
"No, Jake. I'm just not ready." Sounding exasperated, Faithe usually won the arguement because Jake wasn't interested in starting an arguement. The man who played her opposite's understudy had asked her out once, but she had declined. Mark, her opposite, and her had become pretty close friends, though that was inevitable considering how much time they had to spent together.  
  
"Izzy, you never smile anymore." Another debate the two had had on more than once occasion. Faithe always retorted back that she did too smile, and Jake would always shoot back that her smiles were never real. At this point, she would roll her eyes and make an excuse to leave. Jake was partly right in his way of thinking. There was always a vacancy in her eyes, and it was always more obvious when there was a smile on her face. If somebody could get a smile on her face, and, moreso, if they could get a smile on her face that wasn't forced, it never lasted for more than a few seconds. Faithe's laugh hadn't been heard since the last day on the Ecstacy.  
  
Two movements later of Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty, Faithe turned off the CD player. Walking into her kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of water out of the refridgerator. Gulping it down, she continued walking around, allowing her heart to slow down. Twisting the cap on, she set it down on the table next to her wand. She was about to go back to the studio when a rap on the door stopped her. Raising her eyebrow, she walked over to the door, wishing she had a peep hole. Opening the door, her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked up and down the hallway. There's nobody here... Tilting her head to the side, Faithe shrugged to herself and closed the door. She was the only occupant on this floor - the top floor. There were only two separate apartments on the top, and the other had yet to be bought. Locking the door, she turned around and slumped against the door.  
  
"Great Faithe, now you're being paranoid." Speaking to herself, she shook her head.  
  
"No, you really aren't." The soft voice of Eddie Polazzo met Faithe's ears, causing everything within her to freeze. Looking up, her eyes had a terrified expression in them. Standing two feet in front of her was Eddie, though he was paler than the last time she'd seen him. Taking a step forward, he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. "Hello Isabelle."  
  
"No." Trying to push past him, Faithe's eyes were already on her wand. Shehadn't taken more than a step when Eddie pushed her gently against the door. Pinning her body against the door with his body, Eddie grabbed both her wrists with one of his hands. Placing his other hand over her mouth, he leaned forward so his face was within inches of her own.  
  
"Shhh...Calm down Isabelle. I don't want to hurt you, so please don't makeme." Still speaking softly, his eyes ran from her face all the way down to where their bodies met. Leaning forward, he kissed her neck gently. "I've missed you. Apparently all the commotion at Azkaban didn't register as much of a call for security as one would have thought. With all the recent break outs, I doubt they've missed me yet." Smirking, he lifted his hand off her mouth and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "By the way, you can scream all you want, but I highly doubt anybody's ears will pick it up through my silencing charm." Smirking still, his hand trailed down to her bare shoulder. Since she had planned on being alone, all she was wearing was a sports bra, jazz pants, and her pointe shoes. Now she was silently reprimanding herself for that decision.  
  
"You're one of them?" Though she'd found her voice, it came out tiny and shakey. Even though the main threat from Voldemort was overseas, it was inevitable that he would have followers all over the world.  
  
"Me? A Death Eater? No, though I'm an avid fan, and I have learned a few things from them. You know that, though." His eyes continued to look over her as he spoke.  
  
"Why are you here?" Making an attempt to wiggle away, her voice cracked as she spoke. Faithe flinched almost violently as Eddie raised his hand, threatning to back hand her; however, grinning at her reaction, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, which had begun watering.  
  
"You know exactly what I want." Whispering softly, his hand moved to her ponytail and pulled her hair down.  
  
"Please don't." Her voice came out more of a squeak than anything, and she tried to step back. Of course, being up against the door, she didn't get very far. Pulling her away from the door, he walked over to the couch. Turning her around so she was facing him, Eddie leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Faithe became slightly braver as she struggled against his hold, though she didn't hold much hope of actually overcoming him in strength. His grip tightning around her, he lifted her chin so she didn't have any choice but to look at him.  
  
"Izzy, why are you fighting me? Nobody else wants you. Lorenz proved that you weren't good enough for him." Eddie's voice was no longer a whisper, but he was still using a soft voice, filled with malicious glee. Swallowing the lump down in her throat, Faithe averted her gaze to the left side of Eddie's face.  
  
"How did you know about that?" spoke with an incredulous expression on her face, though her voice still sounded meek.  
  
"I have my ways, love." As he spoke, he ran his hand down her jawline. His hand moved down to her necklace. "He left you for the very woman he broke your heart with all those months ago. You could never make him happy Faithe. He wants more than what you can give him." Running his finger along the star, he trailed down her the middle of her torso, stopping above her belly button.  
  
"Eddie, I'm begging you. Please don't." Giving him a pleading look, Faithe's voice was nearly inaudible. She knew he was right about Orlando, but she refused to let him see that. Although, her expression gave away that she agreed with him on that issue. Eddie merely smirked, taking a step forward, and causing Faithe to take a step backward. When she did, her legs backed up against the couch, and she quickly found herself sitting down. The glint in his eyes showed her that that had been the plan. Eddie, meanwhile, had been pulling out his wand.  
  
"Normally I would enjoy listening to you beg, but not now. I've waited a long time to be in this position, and I'd rather live it up." Pointing his wand at her, a smirk spread over his face. "Imperio." Once the spell had been cast, Eddie laid his wand on the table. Leaning over, his lips pressed against Faithe's, only this time, she didn't pull away. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed aggressively, pushing her down on the couch.  
  
**  
  
"Happy Birthday, baby girl." Leaning down, Faithe scooped up Kaytlin, now six years old, into her arms.  
  
"Aunt Belle! Guess what? Betha bought me a special doll for my birthday! She looks just like me!" Wiggling out of Faithe's arms, Kayte skipped off down the hallway towards her room. It amazed Faithe how well the young girl had bounced back from being kidnapped. Jake had considered alterating her memory, but Faithe had talked him out of it. She believed that Kayte had the right to remember that, and it could prove to be beneficial.  
  
"Faithe?" Betha walked out of the kitchen, her face covered in flour, as well as her hair. "I'd hug you, but I'm a mess. Jake thought it would be fun to bake Kaytin a cake. Of course, we ended up in a flour fight." Smiling, she offered Faithe a wink. Faithe did her best to smile back, but there was that look of vacancy in her eyes, as well as a troubled look.  
  
"That's Jake all right. He in the kitchen?" Setting all her stuff down on the couch, Faithe ran a hand through her hair.  
  
"Yes. I'm just running to the bathroom to clean up." Grinning, Betha walked down the hall. Jake and Betha had known each other for years, but had only been dating for a month. Kaytlin was incredibly taken with the twenty-one year old, which was one of the reasons Faithe respected her so much. Betha had been a breath of fresh air for Jake, and Faithe was happy for him. Walking into the itched, she picked up a sliced up piece of apple and munched on it. There were about to be ten kids showing up, and three adults among them. It would prove to be an interesting night...  
  
The week before the opening of the ballet, everybody's nerves were on end. They had gone from eleven-hour days, to eighteen-hour days. Over half the cast, including the two lead dancers, had developed a small dependency on No Doze pills. Even the closest of friends had begun nipping at each other. It had already been decided that the day before the first performance, they would only do one run through in costume, and everybody was encouraged to go home and sleep. Grabbing her bag, Faithe started for the door.  
  
"Hey Cunningham! Hang on a sec!" Roger Blaise, the writer of the ballet, was jogging after her. Raising an inquiring eyebrow, Faithe stopped and stared at him curiously. "Miss Thing, I just got off the phone with Dimitri Schneider. He's a representative from the Russian Ballet, and he be here tomorrow night, looking at you." Grinning, Roger bent down and kissed her cheek before heading off. Once she was in the bathroom, she wasted no time apparating home.  
  
Eddie was there waiting for her, as he'd done twice before. He'd made sure that she wouldn't open her mouth about his visits to her.  
  
"If you want Kaytlin to continue living a life of contentment, you'll keep this yourself. Who knows, maybe one of these days I won't have to control your mind." With the prospect of Kayte's life getting disrupted, Faithe had kept her mouth shut. Life was one big gray area for Faithe, and she was almost scared to know what would become of it. 


	11. St Valery en Caux

Some things are meant to be forgotten- to vanish once their time has passed; things like spiteful words, childish name-calling and what one had for breakfast all fit into that category. Other things, like love and friendships, are meant to last forever, even if only in the form of an essence that lingers for eternity- haunting the air and never truly dying out completely. Whether these essences of the latter group seem good or bad is irrelevant, for each effect they take is beneficial in the end.  
  
Darkness encompassed the terrain of the French countryside, turning innocent tree branches into monsters' claws and giving the crisp midnight zephyrs an eerie undercurrent to them. From their place upon a grassy knoll, a pair of brilliant blue eyes gazed over the rolling that seemed to stretch forever, taking in the familiar sight. It had been a little over two years since the man had been there, but St. Valery en Caux still remained exactly as he had remembered it. The town was still small, with buildings congregated around the tiny bay that jutted inland from the sea; the beach was still lined with rocks and bordered by towering rocky bluffs; and the air still held that indescribable smell of adventure and amusement. One might wonder just why Orlando Corvello Lorenz had decided to return to a place he had not seen in so long, but that question can be answered in a single word: love. Then again, depending on one's perspective, that single word response might ought to be "stupidity". After spending nearly a year in a relationship with a beautiful, smart, amazingly enchanting young woman, the man had found himself to have had fallen out of love with her and realized that he was still undoubtedly attracted to one Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance and it was for her- or rather for the prospect of her- that he had traveled halfway around the world.  
  
Realizing exactly where he was and what he was about to do, the man paused a moment, sitting himself atop the hill he stood upon and wondering if he ought to just turn back now. He was tired, and exhaustion didn't exactly breed coherence. What if, instead of rectifying something, he was only making another mistake, but was too weary to realize it? It had, after all, taken him quite a long time to get to where he was, not meaning it had taken him a long time to apparate there (even though it had), but referring to how long he had remained in Maine after the summer cruise, isolated and brooding. Then again, most of that time had been spent dwelling on the topic of Faithe.  
  
He had passed too many hours simply lying upon the cottage's roof wondering about her- where she was, what she was doing, if she was holding up alright. Though he was never sure about the first two, the enchanted star, which never left the man's possession, always answered the third with its reasonably healthy silver flow. Perhaps it could have answered the other two as well, but he dared not try to feel Faithe's emotions; he didn't need or want any more reminders of how badly he had hurt her- how badly he [I]was still hurting[/I] her.  
  
He knew that, without a doubt, she was in love with him, and it hurt to know that, beyond having her heart broken since he was unable to return such a pure, unsullied emotion, she was probably still blaming herself for his mistakes by means of some ludicrous reason her mind had concocted. He had tried, though, to make her understand, and he had said all he could. There wasn't a thing he could do for her when he didn't have the heart to love her the way she wanted him to; his heart belonged to Demi still and until that song had played itself out, it couldn't ever be given to another. Faithe, or whomever he was with, deserved his full and complete soul and being, not just the part that he was free to give. Things were better for everyone this way.  
  
And so, there he was- five weeks, one absurdly long broomstick ride and a reasonably easy locating charm later- sitting atop a hill looking down into the valley where the little town of St. Valery en Caux, France (the very village he had taken Demeter to all that time ago) resided. For a moment he had wondered what the woman would be doing there, but that inquiry faded from him mind quickly as he recalled her French heritage and blew off the coincidence of her being in the exact same place they had visited together. Perhaps she was visiting family, or maybe doing some marine research, or maybe she'd eventually wound up becoming involved with history- that muggle subject she'd always loved- and decided to position herself close to Normandy Beach for that reason.  
  
Walking down the narrow road into town at three in the morning (which was really only 9 o'clock Manhattan time) filled the man with an odd sense of serenity. The sky was clouded over and crisp zephyrs blew through the air, but the eeriness one would expect to find there and the fear that would be expected to be coursing through the man's veins were absent. The only things running through Orlando's mind were memories, intertwined with a thread of hope that everything would work out. Exactly how that would happen and what he was planning on doing when he finally reached Demeter was still a mystery to our young hero, but he knew he had to see her, to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss her. to make her understand that, once more, he'd been a fool, but that, this time, he wanted to fix things.  
  
Arriving into town, the hallowed moonlight, which shone through the overcast sky, reflected in his eyes as they flitted around. Reaching into the pocket of his brown duster, his fingers wrapped themselves around a small wooden box to which a slender silver chain, adorned every three links with a dolphin charm, was affixed. Opening the box, he held it in his right hand while procuring his wand with his left. Pointing it at the box, he whispered a quiet incantation, letting the charmed compass guide him to the owner of the bracelet.  
  
***  
  
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.  
  
One by one, silver tweezers had plucked off the light brown hairs of Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance's eyebrows, shaping them into perfect crescents. Reaching a hand, whose artificial nails wore a perfect French manicure, up, her slender fingers had wiped away the stray hairs, smoothing down the remaining ones. Dark green eyes had stared back in the mirror for a moment and the crescent-shaped eyebrows had furrowed for a moment before resuming their normal position.  
  
Meticulously, the young woman then outlined her emerald eyes with a coffee- colored pencil. Next, she had caked her face with foundation, rubbing her fingers all over her face in circles, trying desperately to cover the few imperfections her skin had, and wishing that she had paid a little more attention back at Rosencrantz when they covered healing spells. Sighing, she had reached for a small, silver compact, and frosted her face with matching powder. Gazing up in the mirror again, she had smiled, somewhat pleased with the reflection. Almost perfect.  
  
Reluctantly, she continued painting on her face. In about ten minutes, after sweeping rosy powder onto her cheeks, spreading glittery silver eye goop atop her eyelids, applying jet-black mascara to her thick lashes, lining her lips with a deep maroon pencil, and painting cranberry gloss atop them, Demeter had, at last, considered herself finished, and ready for that night's adventure.  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
At the quiet rapping, the woman's lips had curled upwards in an excited grin. Jerôme- her date for the evening- had arrived. Parting her golden hair on the left side of her head, she had wrapped the strands into a messy bun and hurried down the stairs, red colored leather shoes clicking softly on the wooden stairs of her small loft apartment. Opening the door, the young woman had beamed. Jerôme was a nice young man whom she'd met on the beach a few days earlier, and, more than that, he was most certainly an attractive young man. Tall, dark and handsome- he fit Demeter's typical choice in men.  
  
All that preparation seemed useless and all the excitement had faded as Demeter's eyes flickered open just then. Sure, it had seemed nice, but look where it had gotten her: wrapped in the arms of yet another random Frenchman as she laid naked in his bed. It wasn't love, but it was a lifestyle- one that she had become quite accustomed to, also. After all, wasn't all the crap she dealt with worth that one moment during each night she could close her yes and imagine it was Orlando's breath warming her neck, Orlando's fingers waltzing gently upon her back sending shivers along her spine and Orlando's lips softy caressing her skin? She certainly thought so.  
  
It wasn't that Demeter longed for the man so desperately that she had to resort to hallucinations, but rather that she longed to feel loved, as Orlando had once made her feel, that caused her to resort to the "date 'em, screw 'em, and ditch 'em" lifestyle. Though what she and Orlando had had was over now, and he had moved on and found someone else, Demeter was still searching. though she was going about it in entirely the wrong fashion.  
  
Sighing quietly to herself as the empty feeling settled into her once more, Demeter lifted the arms off of her body and slid silently off of the bed. Jerôme [I]was[/I] a nice guy, but he had been a little too heavy of a drinker for Demeter's liking. Picking her clothes up off the floor, she hastily- yet quietly- redressed herself in a pair of indigo hue jeans, a deep green tank top with magenta-colored ribbon straps and her tennis shoes, and threw her hair back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Exiting the small "downtown" apartment, she began to wander back down towards the beach, hoping to take a quick dip in the icy cold sea to clear her mind (and cleanse her body) before returning to her own place.  
  
Slipping off her shoes and tucking her socks inside them, her feet touched the cold rocks of France's northeast shore. Her arms reached down to lift her shirt over her head, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped her. Pulling her wand from its place between her belt and her pants (supple enough was the corkscrew shaft that it could easily bend around the curve of her waist), she pointed it at the intruder.  
  
"Qui est-ce?" she called into the darkness, daring the silhouette to reveal its identity.  
  
Eyes lingering upon the woman's lithe figure, it took a moment for the silhouette to reply. Taking a few steps closer, its head tilted inquisitively, taking in every aspect of the woman.  
  
"Un ami, j'espere." Orlando said quietly.  
  
He didn't really know quite how to react. This was the part he hadn't planned, and so everything from here on out would be complete improv.  
  
"Orlando!?! What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
Demeter's voice was harsh and spiteful, but still confused. Orlando had made it transparently clear in Manhattan that he wanted nothing to do with her and that he was with Faithe now. That was fine with her, really, it was. He'd hurt her enough, after all, and if he wasn't going to lust after her, she had no reason to do the same for him. She could do better than Orlando Lorenz; she could find someone who wouldn't freak out about sleeping with her, someone who'd always be there, and someone who'd take care of her forever. It would just take awhile.  
  
Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd expected. It wasn't as though he'd though he would just sweep her into his arms, share a passionate kiss and have everything be alright, but. then again, he [I]had[/I] kind of thought that. [I]'Idiot.'[/I] he mused to himself. He ought to have known things couldn't be that easy.  
  
Swallowing, he stepped forward again. His eyes grew a little more of a slate blue color as they stared into hers.  
  
"Are you still in love with me?"  
  
Drawing in a breath as he came closer to her, Demeter's body recoiled slightly from him, still wary as to what exactly his intentions were and why he'd come here. how he'd come here.  
  
Then, at his questions, her eyebrows furrowed as more confusion set it. What sort of question was that? Was [I]he[/I] still in love with [I]her[/I]? Surely he couldn't be. Not after all this time. Besides, even if he was, didn't he have that Hope girl back in the states? He had had his chance to be with her- two chances, at that- and he'd turned her down both times. She couldn't let him hurt her again.  
  
But, his words echoed in her mind, and she wondered what the answer to his question really was. [I]Did[/I] she love him? Shaking the thought out of her mind, her verdant eyes hardened as she shook her head almost disgustedly at him.  
  
"How the hell am I supposed to answer that?" she retorted indignantly, placing her hands upon her hips.  
  
Although he was slightly taken aback by the harshness of her words, Orlando didn't show it. Demeter had a right to be chary of him, and he hadn't the right to call her on it. He'd screwed up so many times, and too many of those mistakes had ended up hurting her; her anger was only justifiable.  
  
"Truthfully," he replied quietly.  
  
Shaking her head, Demeter merely stared at Orlando for a moment, wondering what was going on in the man's mind. This game was getting old quickly. What was he doing anyways? Trying to win her back somehow through his sincere yet cryptic phrases and questions? If that was his goal, he was certainly on the right track.  
  
"Look, 'lando," she replied with a somewhat frustrated roll of her eyes, "What right do you have to ask me something as ridiculous as that when you don't even know how [I]you[/I] feel about me yourself?"  
  
Demeter's words, at one point, may have been true, but Orlando was past confusion and bewilderment now. He had finally figured everything out and knew for certain that he was in love with Demeter, and only Demeter. She was his one desire, and if traveling halfway around the world didn't prove that to her, then only one thing could.  
  
Closing the distance between the two, he ran his fingers gently down the side of her face, along her neck and ended up with his hand on her bare shoulder.  
  
"I know exactly how I feel about you, Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance," he stated, gazing into her eyes with a look that radiated nothing but truth.  
  
Wrapping a hand around her waist and bringing the other up around the back of her neck, he pressed his lips to hers gently, but with the slightest bit of urgency in their movement, kissing her warmly. Pulling back after a moment, his eyes stared back into hers again.  
  
"I am completely in love with you," he whispered, "And I know it's taken me much too long to realize it, but I am, Demi. What happened that night.  
  
"I let the guilt get to me, and it pushed me away from you. I couldn't stand to see you because I just kept thinking how much I'd hurt you and how sorry you'd be when you finally saw that. And then in Manhattan, just like I said, you found me again, and you tried so hard to make me see, but I didn't. I'm so sorry, Dem, I-"  
  
"Shh."  
  
Reaching up a finger and placing it upon Orlando's lips, Demeter silenced him. If there had ever been words she'd longed to hear, those had been the ones. It was true that she had gotten over Orlando, but hearing him whisper those words brought back that feeling she'd become addicted to- the feeling that she was wanted, desired, but, more than that, loved.  
  
Without so much as a second thought, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed herself against him kissing him gently as she stood upon her tiptoes and stepped onto the top peak of one of the beach's jagged rocks.  
  
Smiling through the kiss, Orlando arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her against him, lifting her up into the air.  
  
"Everything's alright now," she whispered, looking up into his eyes as she broke her lips off of his.  
  
Holding her in his arms, with the soft sound of water gently lapping the shoreline as they stood upon the beach in the darkness, everything certainly did seem alright. It was as though everything had just magically worked itself out. Opening his eyes, Orlando's whole face seemed to light up as he smiled at the beautiful woman within his arms.  
  
"Yeah, it is," he replied, kissing her again before releasing her.  
  
As his arms loosened from around her waist, Demeter let out a sort of teasing whine and sat carefully upon one of the rocks. Reaching up, she grasped Orlando's hand, roughly (but jokingly) pulling him down to sit next to her. A smile lit her face- one that made it appear as if the past two- ish years of their lives had never transpired. like they had never been apart.  
  
Tilting her head slightly, Demeter's green eyes gazed up into Orlando's blue ones, and in that moment, something passed between the two that had been forgotten for so long. Orlando's hand reached out and made contact with her skin, creating a sort of spark that ran between them. Whatever fear Demeter had had was gone, and whatever guilt and remorse that had been holding Orlando back from doing something like this for so long had mysteriously vanished into thin air.  
  
Slowly, his arm wound itself around her, turning her body into his own and his lips pressed upon hers, causing her to melt into him as he guided her down towards the ground. As her back hit the rocks rather roughly, the woman's eyes jolted open and she let out a shout of pain. Pulling back quickly, Orlando's eyes widened in trepidation.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Rocks." she replied half-groaning as she rubbed her back, unable to prevent herself from smirking ever-so-slightly.  
  
"Oh." he replied somewhat vacantly, yet with just a hint of mischievous sincerity in his voice.  
  
Smiling at him, the woman shook her head and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck after grabbing her discarded shoes by the laces with one of her hands.  
  
"Hold on," she whispered, pressing him against her as she shut her eyes tightly.  
  
A moment later, they were lying upon Demeter's bed and the spark that that first touch had ignited soon grew into a warm, blazing fire that didn't die out until dawn (if you get the drift).  
  
***  
  
The shrill call of a bird broke Orlando's peaceful slumber the next morning, causing his eyes to twitch suddenly and his mouth to slump into a grin once more. He yawned, and, blinking his eyes several times in succession, hoped that the dream he had had had been reality. The hope soon became a reality as he gazed upon the body of another beside him, slowly coming into focus. It was the best morning he'd ever awoken to. His arms still lay draped around her side and her head was nuzzled against his chest. Orlando sighed contentedly, finding himself to be in a surreal state of mind. This was what he had been longing for for so long.  
  
Softly, the man leaned over and kissed Demeter upon the cheek. He felt lost in her embrace, unsure as to what lay ahead for them, but knowing all the same that whatever it was would be marvelous as long as they were together. The soft breath of Demi brushed against his face and he smiled cheerily. This is what he'd been missing for the longest of times: a second chance with Demeter- an opportunity to rewrite history and do things right. for once. Lifting his head, he left a trail of featherlight kisses running from her forehead to her shoulder before laying his head upon her shoulder.  
  
"Good morning." Orlando whispered, voice slowly creeping into her ear. He wanted to say more, but nothing he said would matter then.  
  
"Thank you." he added suddenly, closing his eyes as he kissed her neck.  
  
As Orlando's body had shifted, and she became aware that he was conscious again, Demeter had closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Though he may have just woken up, she, on the other hand, had been awake for nearly an hour, trying to find the words to say how she felt. Waking up in the man's familiar embrace, with her head nestled into his chest, she hadn't felt anything out of the ordinary. It was just as though she was waking in the arms of yet another man she barely knew, even though, this time, the arms surrounding her were ones she knew almost better than her own.  
  
Since the day Orlando and she had split apart, Demeter had found herself constantly searching for something that could make her feel as he had: loved, protected, and safe. She'd begun by breaking away from the wizarding world entirely and, instead, choosing to pursue a career in muggle advertising, using just a few little spells here and there to charm her way to the top of her corporation. Yet burying herself in a successful career didn't get her any closer to what she longed for, and soon she began dating again, but so alone did she feel that she made sure she was rarely alone for long. or rather, rarely alone for a night.  
  
Eventually, she decided that she ought to just be happy with the moments of happiness she could have, however few and far between they were. But something always nagged at her from the back of her mind, telling her that if she could just find Orlando again, she wouldn't have to live that way because he'd make sure she never felt alone again.  
  
Things didn't work out that way, though. She had woken in his arms, and now he was kissing her softly, whispering "good morning", and being just as perfect as he'd always been, but the feeling she'd longed forever for was no where to be found. It was as though she'd held onto a memory in her head and each time she longed to relive it, had mentally only made it better, until it was built up so much that it had become an exaggeration of reality. She had Orlando back, but after spending a night with him, she realized that he wasn't what she wanted. The past couldn't become the present, and she couldn't pretend that the last two-ish years hadn't happened and that she was just now waking up after that first night. Things had occurred, events had transpired, and everything was different now.  
  
It was kind of funny, Demi supposed, how you can want something for so long, but then, once you finally have it, it doesn't seem that wonderful anymore. How could she explain that to Orlando, though? It didn't make any sense at all. Not that any part of their relationship after that night had, but still.  
  
Mentally sighing, she rolled herself on her side, away from him a bit, but still resting her head on his arm. Flitting her eyes up, she met his gaze- sweet, sincere, enamored; he had told the truth last night: he was completely in love with her. but she wasn't in love with him. Not anymore, at least.  
  
"Bonjour a toi, aussi," she replied, not yet letting him in on the emotions and thoughts plaguing her mind.  
  
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.  
  
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.  
  
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.  
  
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.  
  
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.  
  
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.  
  
"Stop it."  
  
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.  
  
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.  
  
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard.  
  
THE BALLET  
  
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.  
  
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.  
  
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.  
  
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.  
  
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.  
  
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.  
  
"Stop it."  
  
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.  
  
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.  
  
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard. 


	12. The Ballet

The pressure was on. It was the final night of the ballet that everybody had worked so hard on for the past two months. The first three nights had gone without fault, and tonight would be the performance that would either make the company, or break it. Every year, the financial supporters would be invited to attend the 'grand finale' of the ballet put on, and every year, how well the performance went was the deciding factor on how much money was donated.  
  
Aside from that burden that was laying heavily on her and Scott, Dimitri was making another appearance that evening. Since the Russian Ballet Company had decided to recruit an American, they were being very meticulous about whom they chose. It had come down between Faithe and another girl who was on West Coast. They had watched the pervious night, and Dimitri wanted to observe Faithe one last time before making the final decision.  
  
Backstage, Isabelle Cunningham was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Everything within her existence at this moment was riding on this one performance. If she messed up, then she was stuck in the States, with the memories she longed to rid herself of. Not to mention, the physical torment that was becoming an every day part of her life. Everything had come crashing down on her, and even if the lifestyle of touring Europe and Asia dancing hadn't been one of her most desired plans before, it was certainly becoming a safe haven to her.  
  
"Calm down, Faithe. You're going to do great." Speaking softly to her, Scott wrapped his arms around her in a protective hug. Smiling, he pulled back and picked up her hands with his, squeezing them tightly. "You've been on this entire week, and your students are out there tonight." Letting go of her hands, he winked and walked off in search of Roger. Sighing, she continued stretching, trying to make herself believe he was right.  
  
In the process of trying to ease her mind's thoughts about Orlando and everything else in the world that was going wrong, Faithe had begun teaching kids with disabilities, who were able enough, ballet. Despite her earlier thoughts in the school year that she would never have the patience for teaching, she was amazed at how much patience she truly did have with her kids. Teaching seven and eight year olds with ADD, Downs syndrome, ASL kids of all types, patience was a necessity, and Faithe had found she'd had a knack for it after all. If everything with the Russian Ballet fell through, she already had a job lined up as a full time teacher.  
  
"All right everybody, take your places." Roger's voice rang out, causing everything in Faithe's body to start trembling. Taking her place on left stage, she looked across the way, catching sight of Scott just behind the curtain. Inhaling deeply, she swallowed, a determined look on her face as the eerie, melancholic piano intro began.  
  
It was barely seven o'clock, and the evening lights were already burning above in the sky. A blue moon hung overhead, its silvery blue rays shimmering as they struck the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, cascading into a pool of diamonds. There were the stars, burning up overhead, twinkling, as always, endlessly dancing to a different rhythm. Each one was part of a constellation, and each constellation told its own story, which played over and over again in the mind of one Orlando Corvello Lorenz, who, that night, like every night since he'd returned from France, was lying upon the roof of his Maine cottage, gazing up into the heavens.  
  
His brilliant blue eyes waltzed across the black backdrop of night doing just what he did every evening, musing over the world, and trying to figure out what he place was in the big picture. Earlier that year, everything had been so much simpler. He'd known exactly who he was, and had known where he was going with his life, planning on continuing as Rosencrantz's Astronomy professor and then eventually marrying Faithe Cunningham. Now, though, everything he had known had flown from his mind, and he felt lost and unsure as to where his life would lead him; it was safe to say the man had fallen into a sickening state of depression.  
  
He had no family, no close friends, no significant other, no career (although he did have a job, thanks to Tealyr, it [I]was[/I] summer at the moment) and, overall, no life. His "life", or something like it, at the moment, consisted only of busying himself by spending the days reading through his old Cepheus textbooks or occasionally doing a little more work on the telescope he was building and watching the sky at night. If he slept, which rarely happened, it was only for an hour or so upon the roof. If he ate, which rarely happened, it was only a cracker or two, just to keep the pain in his stomach from bothering him. And, if he communicated with anyone, which rarely happened, it was only just enough to keep Tealyr and Demeter off of his back. It didn't take much to do that; the both of them were busy with their own lives. If he were to die that very moment, he didn't even think anyone would notice.  
  
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He knew Faithe would notice. Glancing down at the tiny golden star that hadn't left his hand since before France, a sorrowful smile crossed his lips. Faithe would notice, and she'd care. She'd always cared about him. Lying there, thinking about her, the man realized just how much he missed her company. It was at that time that his mind wandered a bit, letting his eyes flit to the sky just in time to witness the Argonite meteor shower, which struck a chord in his mind, reminding him of something. Faithe's ballet was tonight. He'd remembered her telling him so, and himself making some cheesy remark about her dancing upon the stars.  
  
Almost smiling to himself, the idea of going crossed his mind. True, she had invited him back a long time ago, when they'd been together, but surely just going couldn't hurt, could it? After all, he'd get to see her dance. He'd always wanted to see her dance.  
  
Sighing, the man pulled himself up off the roof and, within a few minutes, had made himself look more than presentable. His face was, for the first time in quite awhile, neatly shaven, his now near-neck-length ((think Dantés from Count of Monte Cristo)) hair combed back, and his rugged T- shirt and jeans exchanged for a pair of black flat-front slacks with a deep blue button-up shirt and a black tie. Needless to say, the man looked spectacular- much different than the hobo-like man he'd been moments earlier upon the roof.  
  
Sauntering back into the bedroom, his made his way slowly over to the wooden nightstand. Sitting upon the bed, he reached down and opened the bottom (which also happened to be the largest) drawer and, sitting atop the mound of pictures, old astronomer's journals and other such random things that hadn't been touched in an eternity, lay the small ticket Faithe had given him so long ago. Placing the paper in his pocket, the man closed his eyes and, a moment later, was standing at the entrance to the theatre. Handing the usher his ticket, he walked inside and took his seat, waiting for the show to begin and wondering exactly what force had drawn him to a place he didn't belong. 


End file.
